


A Path Written in the Stars

by overworkedunderwhelmed



Series: A Path in the Stars [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Action, All Season 3 characters will make an appearance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anticip--, Canon Divergent After Maveth, Cupcakes, F/M, Frequent kidnapping club card, If you are patient, Intrigue, Not mutually exclusive, Papa Fitz shenanigans, Sass, Secrets Revealed, Some comics-compliant aspects, UST, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Will is mentioned but is not a major factor, a bit of mystery, eventual rst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 84,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overworkedunderwhelmed/pseuds/overworkedunderwhelmed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was no coincidence that Leo Fitz found his way onto Phil Coulson’s team, was rescued by Fury, and has been surrounded by Shield’s top agents. Shield was charged to protect him. But the Wheels of fate have already been set in motion…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AGL03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGL03/gifts).



> Dedicated to agl03: No one else enables my crazy theories quite so much!
> 
> Major thanks to LettertoElise for helping on all aspects of grammar and helping to whip my writing into shape!
> 
> I really appreciate all of the kudos, comments, and messages on tumblr. It me helps to improve my writing and definitely helps keep me motivated to keep on writing.

_15 November 2015_

_Undisclosed Location_

 

Fitz wiped the drops of sweat from his brow as he carefully maneuvered the last box of sensitive equipment up the lone flight of stairs and the heavy metal door that barred the Playground’s roof access.  From up here, the view of the meteor shower would be nearly crystal clear.  The ambient light was minimal and the nearest residences were quite far away.  The air was chilly but nothing a good jumper couldn’t fix.

He settled the hard case down and lifted the top of the line telescope he bought when he started at Sci-Ops, methodically lifting each piece out and setting it onto the tripod he’d brought up the night before in preparation.  Watching the fall meteor showers with his Mum was a long-established annual tradition. 

It had been worse last year, as he struggled to adjust the tetchy light and focus dials with his good hand.  Mack had helped him haul things up to the roof, but Fitz had insisted this was time spent only with his mother.

That, of course, was not entirely true.

The phone vibrated against his leg.  He quickly answered it, moving the phone to speaker mode so he could properly adjust the focus.  “Hi, Mum.  I’m nearly finished setting up.”

“Hello, Leo-dear,” she yawned. “Oh. It used to be so much easier to do this when you were still here with me. I’ve started to miss us lugging the blanket and gear out to our spot.”

“I’m sorry, Mum.”  He frowned.  For as long as he could recall, each November they slogged their gear from of the car trunk and onto the nearest meadow, far away from the bright lights of town.  His tenure beginning at University had always made this a bit rough on her sleep schedule in order to make these long-distance viewings work.

“Don’t you worry, dear.  I’ve got a thermos of cocoa, your old telescope, and a few extra blankets to ward off the chill.”

“You need to throw that old thing away.  I could get them to ship—“

“Leopold Fitz.”  She practically huffed.  “You couldn’t get me to throw out that telescope even if you tried.  Most Mums only get hand prints and holiday decorations.  You found the parts and fixed it up.  It works just fine for these old eyes.”

He sighed and massaged his temples.  He couldn’t have been more than 8 or 9 when he had located the pieces.  The controls were a bit finicky and the base had wobbled, which was surely why their neighbor had condemned them to the rubbish heap.  But a bit of time, care, and a few other recovered spare parts recovered had served them pretty well.  He had repaired the workings at least three times over nearly two decades.  But Fitz had long since learned to choose his battles with his mother.  “If you insist…”

“And I do.”

Fitz blinked a few times before moving his eye up to the eyepiece.  “I just saw one streak past.  If you are facing north and then look at about 10 o'clock, you might catch the next one."

He could hear the clink of the telescope dials as she changed position. “Jemma isn't there with you again this year? I know you said she wasn’t feeling well last year. I don't think I've spoken with her since she was calling me with updates after your accident last summer.”

He raised his eyebrows.  No one really thought to mention that fact to him.  Not that he had Jemma had really spoken last year until just before she was pulled across the universe.  “Well.  She has gone through a lot this year.   I’m giving her a bit of space.”

“Oh, Leo.”  She did very little to mask her disappointment.  “Are you quite sure that she wants space?”

“I—“  Fitz stumbled over the words.  He had only just found out about how many opportunities he actually had and missed, but still had barely time to process it.  Not that it would have done him much good with Will in the picture. “I don’t know.”

“Have you been fighting, then?”

“No, Mum.  It’s not really that at all.”  Fitz sighed.  Dwelling on this now would only bring more questions from his mother later.  “Could we—would you mind if we talked about something else?” 

* * *

 

Jemma Simmons sighed as she slumped against the wall on the landing on the stairs a floor down from the roof.  As a girl, her mother had always been emphatic about the impoliteness of eavesdropping, warning that at best she’d hear gossip that would end up getting her in trouble and at worst she would hear something about herself that she’d regret.  ‘I told you so’ conversations with her mother were unpleasant at best. 

It was tremendously clear in her own mind what she wanted.  She had loved both Fitz and Will in each their own way.  If there was even a chance of bringing Will back from that awful planet, it was worth the risk.  He made sure that she could get away, that she could get back to Fitz.  Will understood what Fitz meant to her.  But Will had suffered far too long in that awful solitude and had truly earned a normal life back on Earth.  It was all too clear to her that Fitz was not going to talk with her about anything until after Will was brought back. 

Once she came out of isolation, Fitz was respectful and polite to a fault, especially where she was concerned—even before she told him what had happened with Will.  At their dinner, she really felt the reality and guilt of this awful situation hit her full force.  These two men who she cared for had literally put themselves into tremendous danger just for her.  Bobbi even enlightened her—at great length--just how much trouble Fitz managed to get himself into while he searched for clues.

Now Fitz was overly polite and incredibly, almost unbelievably helpful.  Going far beyond the call of what anyone would expect of a friend, let alone the romantic relationship they had danced around before she had been pulled to the nightmare planet.  She had never stopped wanting to start that relationship with him.  Now, he seemed far too willing to just give her up.

But she had fought.  She fought that planet, fought for her own survival, fought for a way home, and fought against a growing fear of whatever evil inhabited that planet with them for months. She fought with everything that she had, everything that she was.  Until her last hope, her connection to Earth and to Fitz seemed utterly and unbearably lost.

Will had been there when her world was closing in; he had felt that same darkness himself.  Now, there was no way to even know that Will was well or safe.

She massaged her head against the sharpen spike of pain that always seemed to hit her frontal lobe whenever she caught herself examining this entire messy situation. She would not cry.  She had done enough of that, and it hadn’t helped in the slightest.  Will was still out there.  Fitz was still distant even after they had watched the sunrise together. 

But now, she had hope again.  And she had been rebuilding her strength to fight.

* * *

 

“Jemma?”

She turned her head up the steps, plastering a smile on her face.  “Sorry. I saw Mack carrying the tripod yesterday, and figured you might have come up here.  When I climbed up, I saw you were on the phone with your Mom and came back down to give you a bit of privacy.”

“Did you--” He trailed off, clearly debating whether or not to ask how much she heard.  “Did you wait long?”

“Not really.  We did sit out watching the meteor showers for years.  And I knew you did sometimes talk with your Mum.”

Fitz stood quietly frozen to the spot, a bit stunned.  Not quite how she would have expected him to act if he suspected eavesdropping.  “Are you alright?”

Fitz shook his head, as if to break out of a trance.  “You know I’ve been doing this for years, yeah?”  He lifted the telescope case in gesture.  “Well before we started at the Academy.  My Mum just mentioned that this was actually one of my Dad’s traditions growing up.  We’ve just been carrying it on.” 

 Jemma wore a puzzled frown. In all the years they'd been friends, Fitz had never really mentioned his father.  “She never told you why before?”

“Never.”  Fitz sat down next to her but on the other side of the stair case still staring forward a bit blindly, settling the telescope case in between them.  “She rarely ever mentions Dad.” 

Jemma inclined her head, silently prodding him on.  She was not disappointed.

“I remember sitting out under the stars as a kid, we’d find the constellations and spot the meteors.  Mum would wax poetic on the universe and the age of the stars.  I would read up on the stories of the constellations and tell her about some of the space missions I had read about in the library. I tried telling her about the rocket construction, but her eyes would just kinda glaze over.

Jemma smiled.

“Anyways, I know Mum would occasionally reminisce about Dad, but I can’t really remember any specific time that she would actually mention him other than when we’d go out stargazing.  She would gripe that he traveled far too often for work.  She’d regret every silly fight and mean word.  She’d remember the tool box he’d left for me as a Christmas present the year he passed.  She told me I had just started to pull apart and re-build everything I could get my tiny hands on.  He insisted that if I was quite intent upon it, I at least have the tools to do it right.”  A ghost of a smile crossed his lips before fading just as quickly.   “She’d wish that the awful December day had never come to pass, so I could have had an easier time growing up.

“Oh, Fitz.”  Fitz wasn’t sure when it happened, but when he looked down, Jemma’s fingers lay atop his in comfort, her thumb tracing circles over his knuckles. He tried not to dwell on it. Surely this was just Jemma's idea of being friendly and supportive. And for a man he didn't have any real memories of, it was a bit of shock to realize that his Father still had quite a lasting impact on his life aside from the obvious biological contribution.  He turned his hand over to hold her hand, giving it a squeeze in thanks.

“I must have been too little to understand when he passed.  Or maybe I was so used to him travelling that it just felt like a really long trip.  But when Mum got those silent tears in her eyes, it was like a punch to the gut.   I barely remembered the man.  I didn’t think it was worth causing her more pain for what little it might help me.” 

“After a bit, I figured I’d try and find records on my own.  Diving through the public library microfiche had been a bit awkward, and I found out that hard way that I could only be gone for a few hours without making her concerned.  Once I was maybe ten or eleven, I was able to do a bit of research at the high school on a decent internet connection. I found information on his plane crash into a Columbian mountain.  I even managed to track down some of the papers that he had published in academic journals.  But that never really told me who he was.  I came to terms with the fact that this work and the few spare hints from his mother were all I’d ever know.”

“Besides, it wasn’t if I had a lot of time to mope.  Mum was contacted by Shield not long after with a proposal to fast track my collegiate studies and join Shield Academy.”

“I’m sorry, Fitz.”  Jemma scooted over, resting her arm on his back and her head on his shoulder. 

* * *

 

 

Out in the brush over 500 yards from the Playground facility, a pair of long-ranged night vision goggles and camera slunk back below the brush line. The man was slim, but garbed entirely in camouflage and face mask.  From his position on the ground, he pulled up the camera screen and visually confirmed the captured image on the young man he'd been sent to locate.  Pulling gear apart piece by piece, he packed the components into a hard case before slipping it into a backpack. 

Unwilling to risk the prying eyes of shield catching him he stayed low to the ground, crawling through the shrubs until him came to the deserted road. Hitching his backpack over his shoulder he took on last look at the base in the distance. His target blissfully unaware he'd been found as he gazed upon the stars.

He powered up a burner phone, dialed, and waited for the call to connect.  “The Target’s location has been identified.  Image confirmation to follow.”  Killing the call, he powered down the phone, pulled the battery out, and smashed the sim card.

He peeled off the face mask and with two quick taps on his watch, his clothing shimmering and changed to tactical gear and then casual clothing.

Hitching his backpack over one shoulder, he hiked out to the nearest town.


	2. Chapter 2

_Undisclosed Location_

_8  December 2015_

  
In the hours since Fitz had returned from Maveth, Jemma had gone mostly silent.  The wave of physical and emotional exhaustion of the last few hours crashed over her and left her numb.

Coulson had the team huddled around in the hanger for debrief, and was anxious to hear the assembled team’s version of events. 

Jemma held a tenuous grip on her fraying composure, Fitz as always at her side. Just as he had been as Bobbi examined and treated their injuries. Fitz had only gotten a glimpse at what was hidden beneath her shirt but it made his stomach turn. It was his fault; he had waited too long and failed to protect her.

He delicately relayed what had happened after they were taken from the distant star facility, the hours of torture, and deal with Malick.  May calmly, coldly relayed the fate of the Inhumans brought in by the ATCU, and Lash’s role in their demise.

Mack divulged just how close of a call it had been. The heat of the flames licked at their heels as they scrambled for the isolation pod to make their escape.

Coulson gave a startlingly brief summary of his jump from the plane and onto the planet, the details of where he had been in the hours before and his time on the planet left very much in the dark.  Little else was clear except that Agent Ward had been left with the other Hydra operatives on the other side of the portal.

A select team left the debrief with a mission to scan the castle once more, ensuring none of hydras forces remained before sending a small recovery team to salvage the operation.  This would be a decisive move, as in the rubble of the echo chamber, three of the monolith pieces remained intact. Despite the fact their expertise would be invaluable, Fitz and Simmons were dismissed.

As Bobbi ushered Fitz and Simmons away, Mack caught her eye and gave the slightest of nods. She planned to situate them in the privacy of one of the pods, where they could rest finally rest until the Zephyr carried them home.

Hunter even volunteered to grab them both fresh gear and some water, but Bobbi strongly suspected other motivations in play there.  Ones very likely related to the poll she knew know he was running at the Playground.

* * *

 Jemma watched the assembled group run through the mission details, but only participated when directly asked a question, allowing Fitz to speak for them both. She was still too numb, too wracked with remorse to process what was going on around her. The guilt--of Fitz's journey, Will's loss, Lash's release--would stay with her in the hours ahead, inevitably leaving her tossing and turning through the night.

If only she were stronger… like Bobbi and May.  If she kept silent, buried her pain, and masked her cries. He wouldn’t keep putting himself at such great risk for her.  Looking at Fitz she decided that once her bruises had faded, she would ask Bobbi to teach her how to be stronger. How to fight back, using her size to best advantage. How to better protect herself and someone she cared about. 

For now her biggest priority was to check the wound on Fitz's head. She had covertly watched Bobbi as she patched Fitz up, forced to stay away as May assisted her while she tended to her own injuries.  While Bobbi had done an admirable job, it was not up to Jemma's exacting standards. Admittedly, those high standards were even higher when it came to Fitz. Fitz had worked so hard on his recovery; it would be devastating to lose that progress due to the recent events. Fitz being back, within arm’s reach, was a miracle in its own. He putting himself at risk for her, again, and once again experiencing trauma one should never have to endure.

Her mind raced to make a mental list of the supplies that she would need from Bobbi. Dehydration was high on her list. Their captors hadn't given them food or water on the flight or upon their arrival at the compound. Then he'd been sent to the desert like planet for 12 hours with nothing but the clothes on his back. Hydra's men had been outfitted; Fitz had dress shoes and a suit jacket. The trip home would take a few hours more at the very least. His wound would need redressing, especially considering once he was back to base someone could pull him away or he would forget to get it changed.

She needed to find out what had really happened on the planet. She could see it in his eyes that something had happened in those twelve hours, something more than just scrapes and bruises. He had bled yet not attempted to hide it. Had Ward prevented him? Malick said Fitz was mean to show IT the door. She wasn't sure if she was truly ready to find out what happened but knew he needed her to be there for him, as he had been for her. Even if it was to simply be a shoulder to cry on.

* * *

 On the way back to the med pod, Fitz couldn't keep his eyes from straying to the deep purples burns and bruises that marred Jemma's tiny wrists. He knew she had fought against her bonds, having done so himself with her after they'd been pulled from the lab in the car and on the plane to England.

He could see her wincing in pain with each movement, the thick layer of salve Bobbi had applied doing little to dull it.

Biting his lip he finally spoke "I'm so sorry Jemma, I should have suspected a trap...you were right Hydra was still trying…”

Bobbi was quick to respond.  "We Fitz," she said forcefully. "We all should have suspected a trap."

Before she could elaborate, both scientists feeling there was so much more behind her words, they rounded the corner to the bay where the smaller of the pods was waiting. It contained very few creature comforts, not even a basic medical kit should one of its guests be able to affect its contents.

Bobbi was ready though, her hands laden with bottles of water and a stocked med kit. "It is either this or the containment unit," She said. "And the containment unit has video feeds that go all over the plane. At least this way you can have some privacy and get some rest. If you need anything, anything at all, just hit the buzzer."

Fitz regarded Bobbi carefully; he knew that the pod wasn't completely private, the feed going to the main medical bay. But it was a small way of giving them some time, and for that he was grateful. "This is great, thank you" he said quietly.  Jemma merely nodded in agreement.

They quietly thanked Bobbi one last time as she left, placing the supplies at the foot of the bed. Weary, Jemma slid down onto the bed next to them. The pain medication they'd given to her was slow to act but had finally dulled most of her pain.

Fitz watched from the door, practically radiating guilt and concern while at odds of where he should go next. She motioned him over to the bed next to her, scrutinizing every movement he made. Slowly, he eased himself onto the mattress and pressed himself against the wall. The signs of pain were written across his pale face and body. How long had he been hiding it? Had something been done to him even before he'd been forced through the portal. Surely, it must have hurt him with their initial embrace as she clung to him, crying into his shoulder, overwhelmed with gratitude that he had come back to her.

They sat in momentary silence, gazing across at the white honeycomb wall at the opposite side.  It suddenly didn’t seem like all that long ago that they both sat in a similar unit at the bottom of the ocean.  The moment Jemma turned towards him and met his eyes sent an electric charge through the pair, goose bumps erupting on both of their arms.  

"How is your head?" she asked, reaching for him. Her gentle touch traced the periphery of the wound. Her fingers lingered a few beats longer than necessary.

“It is fine.”  Fitz replied softly, breaths growing uneven as he fought himself not to lean into her gentle touch. She needed space, time to grieve for Will, and deal with what had happened at the hands of Hydra. Deal with his failure to protect her.

"It is not fine, Fitz," She said sharply and Fitz recognized the change in tone in an instant. Jemma was gone, Dr. Simmons had arrived. He had years of experience with her and knew better than to argue. "It is not 'fine'," she added pulling tools and supplies from the kit Bobbi had left. Fitz knew she would be redressing and inspecting the wound herself. "Repeated traumatic brain injury can be extremely dangerous, especially with your previous condition. Due to the stress and adrenaline, the clinical symptoms may not immediately present themselves," she babbled, already working on the cut. "I'll need you to stay awake until we can get back to the Playground and run proper scans to ensure there has been not lasting damage or signs of bleeding to worry about."

"Yes, Dr. Simmons," he said with a hint of lightness in his voice. To be honest, his heart swelled at the arrival of 'Dr. Simmons', a small sign that Jemma still cared for him. Perhaps not in the way he felt for her, but it was a glimmer of hope that their friendship at the very least might survive this.

She dressed the wound, the slight frown dancing on her lips the only thing that betrayed the clinical mode she had slipped into. "How did this happen?" she asked, recalling how she'd received a similar injury running from the darkness.

"Ward," Fitz said, without hesitation. "We'd been hiking for a bit, and I had a plan.  As we got closer to the destination...I thought if I could get away from them, I could find Will and get back, leaving them to rot on the planet." He paused to gauge her reaction to Will and didn't see as much as a shadow crossing her eyes. "So, I went for his gun.  I had nothing else, just the pair of goggles and tablet with the maps. Well, I wasn’t fast enough. He punched me and sent me down the hill.”

The dark look that passed her eyes made clear that she would have cheerfully throttled Ward’s lifeless body if given the opportunity.

"After that, Ward threatened you. He told me if he didn't make it back Malick would kill you, so I let him think he'd won and didn't try again.” 

The Dr. Simmons-mode had started to slip away from her again, as she started to process the information.  Fitz had promised her to return, and getting himself killed then and there would have done both of them harm.  He had been far more reckless than she thought he would.

"When you say destination, do you mean the portal?" she frowned. 

"No," he breathed.  Fitz refusing to meet her gaze now, having dreaded this particular question from her for hours now.  He rested back against the wall, favoring the shoulder with fewer bruises.   "I…I found the bunker. I found Will, or thought I did."

Now he saw the reaction he had been expecting from her, the sadness building in her eyes. "What do you mean ‘you thought you did’?" she asked carefully.

His eyes met hers, telling her everything she needed to know.  But she still needed to hear it; her own remorse would demand it of her later anyways.

"I'm so sorry, Jemma.  When I got there, he--Will was gone.  Whatever dark thing inhabited that planet was using him. Will died when I brought you back.”  His eyes slid closed, feeling the full weight of his shame hit, but the words spilled easily enough.  “He fooled me, pretending to be Will so I'd take him to the portal. He was good, too. Aside from that god awful smell, I didn't suspect a thing. He was as you described him, knew my name, and even got me safely away from Ward.  It wasn't until I saw the city. I guess I asked too many questions, because he allowed me to look at his wound and saw that the body was decaying. After that..."

When he risked meeting her eyes again, she was clearly struggling to control a powder keg of emotions that would burst free at any second. The tears that had welled up in her eyes were only held back by sheer force of will.

He started to babble, trying desperately to think of some way to comfort her, but if was as if his mind had eluded him once again.  “Thinking back, I should have seen it earlier.  I should have known.  He led us through the No Fly Zone to head towards the portal.  Certainly, I should have expected once he started to pick off the Hydra goons.  In spite of his limp--”

“What city?”

Fitz blinked.  Of all the questions that were running through his head that he thought she might ask, this was not one of them. 

“I took a snapshot.  Wonder if the phone made through okay…” He pulled the phone from his pocket, with his left hand, swiping it open and offering it to Jemma. 

Hesitating only a few spare moments, she left the phone in his hand, swiping through the icons to display the most recent photo. 

"IT said you'd never seen it, so it must have been too far into the No Fly Zone. IT claimed there had once been nine cities on the planet, that they warred with each other as IT watched them fall to ruin. He apparently had some sort of contact with the Inhabitants.  They build him a bloody Hydra head clubhouse for him to live in....which you never mentioned seeing either.”

She fixed her focus on the picture, murmuring to herself.  Her brows furrowed, she squinted through the tears to make out the details. She would never have thought that possible...

Fitz dropped the phone, resting his head back against the wall.  She was so clearly in shock and disbelief. It was understandable since he wasn't sure he would have believed it himself without having been there.  He didn’t know how else to make this easier for her and he desperately wanted to.  "I'm sorry I couldn't bring him back for you, I know he means--meant so much to you, and if I could have traded places with him I would have..."

“Don't you dare, Fitz!" Jemma yelled. Her eyes were wide and wild as she closed the distance between them in the space of a heartbeat.  "Don't you dare to think that. How can you possibly believe that is what I would want?" Her tears, tears she had been fighting all night, spilled freely down her cheeks onto his shirt. "I know it was terribly unfair of me to ask you to help bring Will home. But there was no one else that could do it, no one else I could trust".

Wincing, he forced his good arm around her back, at a loss for words. His fingers absently traced patterns into the fabric of her shirt, unknowingly soothing her with the simple yet unconscious gesture on his part.

"I asked, and you gave your help freely...so unselfishly.  I could see how much it hurt you. The way the team looked at me. Then you kept going even after I asked you to stop, even when the risk to your own life became so great. Even on that planet you STILL risked your life trying to get him back." Jemma said the words spilling out before she could even stop herself. "You've risked your life for me, for a man you've never met. You’re so good Fitz, and I feel like I don't deserve you.  I'm toxic and only hurt you."

Hearing her call herself toxic was more than Fitz could bear and he wrapped her up fully in his arms and held her close. "Jemma, you are anything but toxic to me.  I couldn't live without you.  I tried and I failed." His own voice was wavering now. "The day I found the scroll, saw the word death, I just...broke. I went to the monolith room and blasted my way through the door. I attacked the bloody thing. I thought if I couldn’t bring you back, at least it would take me to you. And we could figure it out together."

"I never wanted to end up there," Jemma said in a harsh whisper. "I missed you but wouldn't have wished that planet on anyone, even Ward."

"I did," Fitz said his voice now oddly distant. Jemma grew a bit rigid in his arms, pulling back a bit to meet his eyes.  She silently encouraged him to go on. 

"I told Coulson to leave him there, felt it was fitting after what he'd done to you, to us. But Coulson..."  Fitz took a few halting breaths, eye haunted. "Coulson, he--Jemma, he killed him.”

"I know," she soothed.  "There was a fight and Coulson did what he--"

"No," Fitz whispered.  "It wasn't like that, not at all. After I stopped Will, Coulson had managed to get Ward down, and he wasn't getting up. We could have just run. There was no way Ward would have made it in his condition. He would have been trapped there. But the look in Coulson's eyes was cold, just how Ward looked at us before he ejected the pod. He killed him. Crushed his chest, over and over, with the hand I built him. I could hear the horrible cracking, Ward’s rattling gasps..."

As Fitz’s voice ebbed away, it was Jemma who now shifted position, pulling herself onto her knees and cradling his head into her chest, gently rocking him. Guilt gnawed at her again that he bore witness to an unspeakable act just because of her. 

* * *

A floor above Bobbi and Hunter gaped at the video feed. Hunter slowly lowered himself into his seat, while Bobbi's hands covered her mouth. Coulson really had let his emotions carrying him too far.

When Hunter had caught sight of the pair huddled together, he begged Bobbi to turn on the audio. She had simply rolled her eyes, knowing that he would just continuing pushing until she'd eventually cave, and all so he could confirm something for the pool. Unfortunately, they had gotten so much more than either one had bargained for.

"Bloody Hell," Hunter whispered.  Bobbi didn't know what else to say.

* * *

Slowly, Fitz’s breathing evened out, a clear sign to Jemma that sleep was imminent if she did not act fast. Any other day, she would happily let him slumber.  But, until they double checked his head, she’d have to keep him awake and alert until they land.

She mulled over how to best keep him awake until Bobbi knocked and came in with fresh clothes, water bottles, and their next dose of pain meds. 

Bobbi had carefully schooled her features in a neutral expression, before allowing a smile to brighten her eyes.  “I brought goodies.  You’ve got about 15 minutes until your next dose, but Hunter managed to track down some spare tactical gear for you both.  I only just managed to keep him from running in here with it.” 

“Thanks for that,” Fitz replied softly. 

Bobbi set all the gear at the edge of the bed.  “Do you think you’ll need help?” 

Jemma’s professional smile again made an appearance, as she carefully maneuvered herself off the bed.  “I’m sure we can manage.”

Bobbi nodded, briefly registering the stunned look on Fitz’s face, before closing the door behind her.

Jemma turned the full weight of that smile back to Fitz.  “Let’s get you changed, shall we?”

He reeled back a bit.  “Jemma, I—“

"Do you think I haven't noticed you wincing or the bruises?"  Her voice simultaneously calm, yet terrifying. "Some are to be expected after a tumble down a hill. But I have seen that evil too. It has lived in my nightmares every night since my return, and it never even got close enough to touch me. You were with IT and Ward for hours. I can see it in your eyes Fitz. What haven't you told me yet?"

He sighed, straining as he pulled himself off of the cot.  Fitz knew better than to try to hide anything from her, though he'd hoped he might have at least made it back to the base before she caught on.

He grabbed his set of gear from the pile, and set it on the bed closer to him.  He turned to afford her some privacy so they both could change. "I was attacked," he admitted, as his fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt.  "As we approached the portal...”

Jemma watched his back, monitoring him for any signs of discomfort that he'd need to check. "Yes, Malick said you were only meant to show IT the way. So Ward--"

"It wasn't Ward." Fitz said his voice harsher than he'd intended, his fingers stopping. 

Her eyes hardened, as she did the mental math.  "What did IT do?"  She asked, wanting now more than ever to tear the bloody shirt off and see the damage.

"Once I found about that Will's body was decaying, IT came at me with very little warning." Fitz explained.   "I fought him off as best I could. Even got a few hits in, but took a knee to the stomach and it knocked the wind out of me. If Coulson hadn't arrived when he did, IT might have crushed my head with a rock."

"Oh, Fitz.  Let me see," she insisted, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

His hands clamped over hers. "The bullets didn't stop him," Fitz added hollowly. "It kept getting back up and continued limping towards the portal, so I shot him again and again until the bullets ran out.  I was frantic to stop IT before it came through.  The only thing left was the flare gun, and it must have been pure luck that the fire finally stopped IT."

Fitz feared the details of having to resort to such extreme measures to take down Will would have pushed her away. Instead, she surprised him by fighting his grasp, tears spilling from her eyes. "Please let me help you!" Jemma begged, now more than ever needing to see him safe and whole. She had come so close to losing him again, and it had almost come at the cost of bringing that darkness back to Earth. "I can't stand the thought of you hurt like this! Especially when it's all my fault--"

He swallowed back his embarrassment and finished slipping the shirt and undershirt off, groaning with the effort when he pulled against a bruised muscle.

“Oh, Fitz…”  She’d made a careful rotation about him, examining the mottled yellow and purple marring the otherwise pale skin of his chest and shoulders.  He hissed as she slipped cold fingertips against his ribs to ensure they were only bruised and not broken.  She took her time with her inspection and only once she was satisfied it was only bruising did she hand him the fresh shirt Bobbi had left. She noticed his wince as he began to slip it on, helping him ease himself into the sleeves.

"See. Not that bad, is it--". Fitz began, until Jemma's hand slapping the call button with an angry crack. "Bobbi, I need as much ice as you can spare.”

* * *

 “…And you detected this signal again when? And what was the particular reading level?” She scratched the details furiously onto the page, an old fashioned land-line phone cradled between her should and her ear. “Excellent. Thank you, Dr. Selvig.” With a sigh she set the phone back into its cradle. Fourteen years without so much as a blip in the readings and then suddenly this was their third in a matter of months.

She sat back in her desk chair and turned her attention to the two men standing before her, setting them with a gaze, silently demanding answers.

Her eyes first focused on the taller man first. “When will your inside contact be able to confirm when and where the portal opened?”

“It may be a few days yet.  The whole organization has gotten far more skittish than usual, and my contact has refused to answer electronically.”  He scoffs and pushes a pair of wire-rim glasses back on the bridge of his nose.   “Keeps insisting the messages are too traceable.  We’ve had to resort to those drop points from the good old days.”

“How are we on access?” she asked turned her attention to the second man.

“We can be in within two days. But once we set that in motion, we may not be able to return to hiding.”

She nodded, not wanting to steps out of the shadows so to speak.  However, after a third incident, they might not have a choice, especially considering the other factors now in play.  People were already getting far too reckless, and she suspected it was just a matter of time before a certain handler called in with a call that she personally dreaded.

“I know," she assured.  "If we must come forward, we only have one more thing to confirm.  Once that is done, he can make that call."


	3. Chapter 3

_Undisclosed Location_

_8 December 2015_

 

A hush fell over the lab at Fitz and Simmons gingerly followed Bobbi into the lab. The lab technicians, eagerly spread word of their arrival throughout the small area in a matter of moments. More than one set of eyes focused on the clumsy, self-conscious dance between the pair. Word had traveled fast after their abduction, everyone left back at the base anxious to see if their bosses returned.

Despite fighting exhaustion and needing someone to lean on, Fitz stubbornly maintained a gentlemanly distance between them. Even though every fiber of his being simply wanted to hold her close, the Will of it all made it far too awkward.

Jemma, on the other hand, hovered closer than his own shadow, barely letting him out of arms reach for more than a few moments at most. Fitz briefly wondered what was going to happen when he requested a desperately needed shower once they were satisfied he wasn’t gong to drop dead at any moment.

She settled him up onto the med bay and set to work.  Jemma donned on a fresh lab coat and gloves, expertly preparing the dosages required for the scans. Every step executed with a remarkable clinical efficiency Fitz had long admired, when not directed at him. Her gloved fingers slipped under his jaw, Fitz allowing himself the briefest of moments to savor her touch. Her eyes locked with his, a light shining to confirm proper dilation responses.

Her fingers fretted around his head, palpating for any new raised areas since the last time she’d checked a few hours ago.  Only this time, his thoughts forcefully jarred back to the kisses they had shared just a few feet away, only hours ago. His eyes locked with hers yet again, his heart quickening in his chest.

Jemma seemed to feel it too.  "I—“ she started, suddenly coming back to herself, although she could not quite mask the slightly higher pitch that seemed to be plaguing her voice. “Bobbi, could you monitor his vitals and get him set up in the chamber while I set up the scan controls?”

Bobbi had to suppress a loud sigh as she nodded. Simmons gave a half nod, turned on her heel and darted from the room.  She knew the hell the two had just been through, and with how they both tended to bottle things up, they were in for a bit of a rough patch. For two people who were supposedly psychically linked they were horrible communicators. This was going to go to hell unless someone stepped in and that someone seemed to be her.

She looked at her charge, exhausted and miserable on the table, the curious eyes of the techs peering around corners and through shelves. "Alright guys!" She said her voice full of authority.  "Take 15!" Bobbi heard a collective groan of disappointment.  The shark-like look she shot around the room effectively silenced it before she pointedly glared towards the door. She might need to have to have a talk with Hunter about corrupting Fitzsimmons' techs to do his dirty work.

Once the last of them had left and closed the door, she turned back to Fitz.  “Do you think you’ll be alright.”

Fitz blinked guilelessly, cupping his hand to the back of his head.  “My head?  Yeah, probably.”

Bobbi surveyed him critically.  "You know that's not what I’m asking about, Fitz," she admonished, tugging a chair over next to his bed. "Look, I can usually read people like a book, and I know whatever happened to you on that planet hurt you. I can see you being strong for her. I see your guilt about not bringing Will back. As much as I want to know what really happened I don’t need too. But I will say I can see you two are at a crossroads".

Fitz fidgeted under her gaze, finding it only slightly less intimidating than his Mum when she started into a good scold. He was suddenly fascinated by the light on the ceiling.

Bobbi patted his knees, "You’re going to need to talk to each other. It’s going to hurt, but I promise you after it will get better."

“Is that how you and Hunter deal with each other?”

She smirked.  “Don’t ask that unless you are really sure you want to know.” 

Fitz gulped.  Immediately contrite, he nodded.  “Yeah.  Alright.”

Bobbi smiled, enjoying for a moment all the ways how simple it would have been to get Fitz to blush.  Unfortunately, it was just a matter of time before Jemma composed herself and resumed her constant vigil for the foreseeable future.

“The romance side of the relationship was never a problem.  It was tolerating each other in the morning.  I’d have a time-sensitive mission to conduct and have to sneak off.  Most of the time he ended up following, or there on his own, and muddled his way right on the middle of the mess.  It was a persistent challenge to balance the mission, my own cover, and his safety.  And he rarely ever appreciated it.”  She sighed, tucking a rogue lock of hair behind her ear.   “I started pushing him away because it was the most effective way to keep us both safe.  Hunter has always been just as stubborn and kept on following.  Until the day he didn’t.”

Fitz grew quiet in reflection, eyebrows furrowed.  “Why did he stop?” 

“Sometimes this job can get to be too much.  I was talented enough that they kept sending me on dangerous missions.  I studied hard and trained harder.  I found the job rewarding on its own merits.  He thought I was placing more value on Shield than on him.  So he left.  And I threw myself that much harder into my work.”

“But there is the difference.  You two have spent a solid decade basically tolerating each other every day.  And unless my skills are failing me from all that time stuck behind the lab bench, I don’t suspect you’d have any issues in the romance department if you put your minds to it.  Not with the way you both look at each other when you think the other is not looking.”

She smiled inwardly at slight blush lighting up his cheeks.  She was maybe 90% sure there was more there than he’d be willing to tell.  Perhaps she could try and weasel more details from Jemma once she relaxed the monitoring. 

"The ride, is it worth it?" Fitz asks softly, the question catching Bobbi off guard. He had unknowingly just asked her the same question Jemma had nearly a year ago.

Despite it all, all the issues, Hunter getting in the way and her need to protect him it had been worth it, in its own way.  She wouldn't give up that ride for the world.  For her own sake and sanity, she needed him: childish humor, reckless loyalty, and all.  Not that she could really ever let him know.  Then he’d just be unbearably cocky all the time. 

“Unfortunately, Fitz, that’s an answer you’ll have to figure out for yourself.  And you'll never know unless you get on.”

They slipped into silence at the hiss of the decompression lock disengaging.  Jemma slipped in with an anxious smile, the only crack in the Dr. Simmons mask. "It's all ready to go.  Come along, Fitz."

Fitz returned her smile, just as anxious to have this whole ordeal over. 

Jemma spun on her heel, not trusting her still shaky composure and blazed a trail back towards the scanning bay.  

Bobbi helped him rise up out of bed and walked next to him for support on the 50 foot trek down the hall.  She stopped and opened the door of the tiny changing room, which contained little more than an L-shaped bench and a railing for support.  A pair of blue scrubs was placed neatly on the bench.

Bobbi gestured to the box to meant to hold all metallic personal effects during the scan.  “I’ll be outside if you need anyth—“

“Bobbi!  Could you verify my settings before we begin?”  Jemma’s voice echoed down the hall.

“Go ahead.”  He slumped down onto the bench, his fingers already working at the clasp of his watch..  “I can handle this much by myself at least.  I forgot how pushy she can be in ‘Dr. Simmons’-mode.”

“At least she did bend a bit of the protocol.”  Her smirk returned with a vengeance.  “You might have had to deal with all of this with her wearing only a standard hospital gown.”

Fitz could only gape as she shut the door.

* * *

Mrs. Fitz grasped his cell phone anxiously, wearing her carpet a bit then as she paced back and forth. The light had already stopped filtering in through the sheer curtains.   It had been a long ten days since she had last heard from Leo, the longest he had ever gone between contacting her.

Even after Shield fell and his team had gone into hiding he had cleverly managed to get messages to her every few days, assuring her he was alright. Then when he wasn't already, when she had nearly lost him, it was his darling Jemma that took care of her. Giving her updates almost daily until he was able to speak with her himself again. Those first weeks of his recovery had been agony for her. Unable to go to her baby’s side due to security concerns for her and him.

But now, she hadn't received word from Jemma, her mother’s intuition stoking her fears that something was wrong. She went to her desk pulling out the card she had been given so many years ago, nearly forgotten beneath a handful of other important documents. It was one of her many requirements when she had permitted Leo to go to the Shield academy.  An emergency contact she could call at any time. And until today she had never used it before.

She glanced around the room, her eyes falling on a picture of Leo from when he was younger. The first time he'd taken their toaster apart to figure it out. A proud smile beamed on his face, those eyes she loved so much glittering back at her. Without another moment of hesitation, she dialed the number.

It rang only twice before a stern voice picked up. "Hello, Ma'am.  What can I do for you today?"

"Hello.  My name is Mary Fitz, and I am Leopold Fitz's mother-"

"I know, ma'am. This is your dedicated direct line. How can I assist you today?"

She tugged a loose lock of hair behind her ear, trying to contain the shake of her voice.  "I haven't heard from Leo in ten days now. He's never done that before. Ever sent he started school abroad he's always managed at least one call. And when he couldn't his partner, Jemma, sorry Agent Simmons, has done so. I've tried both of them...and their superior officer and nothing."

The voice on the other end of the line remained silence, though the clacking assured Mary they were still there.  “I can be in their location in about 4 hours to check on the situation personally.  Please keep this line on you at all times.”

“Yes.”  She nodded, feeling the small wave of relief wash over her.  Sleep would elude her anyways until she did manage to get some word.  "Yes, of course. I look forward to your call."

* * *

Mack stalked the hallways of the playground, anxious to put as much distance between him and the Director’s office as he could. He happily retired that particular mantel. The entire situation left him drained. First, there was Coulson thrusting the unexpected promotion upon him. Fitz and Simmons were kidnapped mere hours later. Coulson's refusal to give any sort of input on the situation before heading off with Bobbi and Hunter done little to help with the search, but Agent Banks had been an unexpected if short lived boon. Finally, the biggest challenge of keeping the somewhat inexperienced team confident and focused on mission as they navigated the obstacles Hydra kept throwing at them. All while herding a pile of unruly cats with super powers and sass. He shook his head.  This whole team had entirely too much sass.

Frankly, they had been lucky. Had Hydra been more focused on them and not the portal it could have been a very different outcome. Then there was the fact that what had happened on the other side was shrouded in mystery. Neither Fitz nor Coulson was terribly forthcoming with details, which was a shame because it was pretty damn impressive that Turbo had managed to outsmart and evade a troop of Hydra's 'best' men, including Grant Ward. Though from what he understood, Coulson actually took them out where as Fitz had managed to get away from them.

Bobbi came around the corner, coming from the dormitory wing with a somewhat exasperated look on her face that was usually reserved for Hunter. Mack inwardly groaned as to what the man could have done to warrant such at look and how that was going to make Mack's life miserable for the next few days.

“Bobbi. Just the person I wanted to see,” Mack smiled, trying to pull her out of her funk. “Did Turbo and Simmons get settled in?” He was fishing, needing an update on the pair and hoped it wasn't too obvious.

“Yes,” she said rubbing her temples. She paused and checked the hallways to confirm no one was around to overhear. “In Simmons’s room.”

Mack’s smiled dimmed slightly. “Oh.” That did not necessarily bode well for Fitz. Simmons was nice enough, definitely cared for him.  Mack was fairly certain she loved him. But she did have a pretty solid track record of leaving Turbo heartbroken, even if she didn’t intend to.  Besides, based upon the way he had watched Simmons monitor her patients, the poor kid was going to be watched closer than a high security prisoner.

"I thought Fitz got the all clear after his work up on the plane, he didn't look that bad after all." Mack said.

“Due to his previous injury Simmons had us run an MRI. Fitz’s scans turned up a "rather suspect shadow." Simmons was less than pleased, refusing to leave anything to chance. I’m still pretty certain that it is nothing to be concerned about, but "Dr Simmons", lovely lady pray you never meet her, pressed the issue to monitor him for at least a few days.” Bobbi sighed as she fought the lingering frustration. “I even offered to have Fitz sleep and be monitored in the med bay by a rotation of the med team. But she was having none of that. She kept insisting he needed to be in a more secluded space and she would monitor him.”

Bobbi had finally relented, a combination of Jemma's determination and Fitz's pleading eyes. She suspected Fitz just wanted to go to sleep and at that point didn't care if it was in the middle of Coulson's office, just as long as it happened. She gave them both a panic button, linked only to her personal phone to call for aid if there were any outward signs of concern. Thanks to her unintended eavesdropping a few hours before, Bobbi completely understood why Jemma had sidestepped Coulson altogether. Going to instead to May to ensure Fitz had the next few days off and could be monitored "in bunk" under her care.

Mack let out a long sigh.  Something more had clearly happened, as Bobbi expressions revealed much without necessarily intending too.  “Anything I might be able to do to help?” he asked. He was hoping she would give him something, a reason to visit the pair himself.  Because if he didn't have a good reason, one acceptable to Turbo’s self appointed protector, Dr. Simmons, he would probably never make it past the door.

Bobbi folded her arms and leaned back against the nondescript brick wall. “The only help that Jemma would accept was in getting a second set of bedding into the room. And that is only because they are both too sore and injured to lift anything heavier than their pajamas right now. I need to update the Director on their status, so if you could take it over to them. Fitz and Simmons both need to know that others have their backs right now." Bobbi looked pensive, the injuries the pair bore forcing themselves into the forefront of her mind again. "They should have never gone through that.  No one should.”

Mack still wanted to pry, she clearly had more information than he did and his stomach twisted in knots.  He should have gone to the facility with them.  Had he really done enough when the baton was thrown in his direction?  Had he acted fast enough when it came to their rescue?  "No problem. I take it discretion would also be appreciated?"

The exasperated look on Bobbi's face returned. "Very."

* * *

By the time Bobbi had found her way into Director Coulson’s office, she was truly incensed. She paused a few moments before opening the door to calm herself. She would not be able to get a good read on him unless she herself was focused.

Coulson sat behind his desk trying to make busy headway into a pile of requisition forms that he had piled up due to the situation with Hydra. He did not even look up when she entered. “You have an update, Agent Morse?”

“Yes, Sir. Fitz and Simmons are settled in for the night. However, they need to be on medical leave and will not be reporting for normal duties for at least 3 days.” As she spoke she watched him closely. Looking for any telltale signs of emotional struggle she'd seen in him so many times before. “Both are pretty badly bruised, and Fitz took a pretty bad knock to the head. We are taking extra precautions due to his previous injuries.”

Coulson finally looked up, keeping his features carefully impassive. “May told me she already approved that leave request.”

Bobbi advanced towards his desk. “Did she tell you that it is because Simmons fears a delayed onset of bleeding in his brain? Or did she mention that Simmons herself presents some pretty strong signs of torture?”

Coulson set his pen down, regarding her cautiously. “She did not mention those.”

“I’m not sure that a few days of leave will really suffice here, Sir. They both went through some serious trauma while in Hydra’s custody. Not to mention whatever happened on the planet.” Bobbi’s eyes locked with Coulson’s at the mention on the planet. “They were not trained to withstand torture, and I’m not even sure that Simmons ever effectively dealt with the months she spent away from here.”

“In my professional opinion, a few days of leave will suffice for either of them, Sir” Bobbi’s eyes locked with Coulson’s, agitation now bleeding into her voice. "No one on base is currently qualified to handle them, especially with Dr. Garner gone."

Coulson leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the desk with his good hand.  “Yes, a few days leave will not suffice.”

Bobbi crossed her arms.  “You need another solution.  Preferably one that doesn’t also turn into an Inhuman rage monster.”

* * *

 

She'd left Coulson without so much as another word. Not trusting herself to speak anymore. There was really only more thing she could do to help the pair. Bobbi quickly slipped into the security room, only to find it already occupied.

Daisy smirked back at her.  “You’ve been busy.  Shouldn't you be resting too? Don't think yo've slept since you took off with Coulson.”

Bobbi nodded to the bowl of popcorn and a contraband soda from the lab fridge sat largely empty on the table beside her.  “You’ve been busy, too.”

 Daisy shrugged.  “It’s a guilty pleasure.  Plus, it is the only real way to do some homework on the team.  Watching how people decompress after the battle.  I’ve not seen Lincoln in a battle scenario for very long before and it was entirely new to Joey.” 

Settling down in the chair beside her, Bobbi nodded.  “And Dr. Garner’s notes are a bit questionable at this point.”

“We were lucky tonight," Bobbi said grimly and Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Hydra made it easy, segregating themselves into smaller groups so we could pick them off. I hear Joey even had some pretty good field improvising with his powers.” As she spoke Bobbi’s fingers tapped through the computer menus. “But they could all use some defensive training. Ways to boost their confidence. They also need to be able to defend themselves should their powers fail or be ineffective.”

“And I need to know if everyone is getting along. It was easy enough when there were just the six of us on the Bus. One of which was May who hardly spoke...two more psychically linked. Now with the larger number of such different personalities” Daisy sighed. “Never thought I’d go all Big Brother, but it beats potentially losing team members.”

Bobbi pulled the history, scanning over what Daisy had been reviewed. The lab feed on there and none of her Inhuman team had been anywhere near the lab since getting back. She confirmed her suspicions by checking the time stamps. Something flared in her again as she purged the files. “Not to mention that it doesn’t hurt your chances in the pool.”

Daisy took a dainty sip of the soda. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she said innocently, even batting her eyes.

"Please tell me Hunter doesn't buy this act.  I taught him better." Bobbi said as she finished deleting the last of the footage.

"Probably not," Daisy admitted. "Did you just delete anything interesting?"

Bobbi definitely needed to talk with Hunter about corrupting pretty much everyone on the base. "No, just a question Fitz asked that no one else has a right to know...or that I want getting back to Hunter."

* * *

 Bobbi wasn't the only one whose night was far from over. The mechanical pop signaled the plane hatch was opening, while the heavy machinery controlling the vertical hanger doors above whirred to a close. Mack signed off on the inspection log, and handed it back to the technician to see the ramp dropping to the concrete floor.

The clacking of high heels preceded the arrival of Agent Weaver. She was, as ever, dressed in all clean lines, a starched and pressed jacket and skirt, and hair sleeked back into a bun. In an agency where the veneer of suits and ties had been retired in favor of the more practical business casual and tactical gear mix, she was the sole remaining visage of professional gloss. She extended a business-like handshake. “Good to see you again, Agent Mackenzie.”

Mack smiled widely-returning the handshake. “You as well, ma’am. How was the flight?”

 “Aside from unexpected? Long, as usual. But I’m spending most of my days on this plane now days.  I saw the report that you stood as acting Director on the latest Hydra raid.” Weaver cocked her head, carefully meeting Mack’s eyes. “A successful recovery mission, I might add.”

“Yes. It was a very near thing. We almost didn’t get people Fitz and Coulson through the portal in time.”

Agent Weaver raised a dark brow and then frowned. This would not do at all. Perhaps someone else, aside from the Director, would need to be apprised.  

“We had a group debrief after. Too many missions running simultaneously and not enough intel flowing between while everything was going down. Way too messy for my tastes.” Mack already had plans to bring to Coulson to improve that.

Mack didn't notice the narrowing of Weaver's eyes or her knuckles tightening.

"You must be tired," Mack said. "I have some quarters prepared, and you can meet with everyone in the morning."

Weaver's mind worked quickly, as she'd promised one last confirmation before she could go to bed. "Where are Agents Fitz and Simmons?" she asked as they passed the empty, darkened lab.   

It was Mack's turn to tense up, and Weaver picked up that tension in a second. "They are settled for the night.  Of course, I'm sure they would love to see you.  But please realize they had quite the ordeal."

Weaver plastered on a smile that did not quite mask the thread of steel in her voice. “I will make it a point to see them first thing in the morning.”

Mack nodded, "They are actually both in Simmons quarters," he said awkwardly.  "Three doors down.”

Weaver nodded her thanks and closed the door. Only once she was alone did she let the mask slip.  Wearily, she pulled out her phone. She had promised a return call to a very concerned mother. Now, she dreaded it with every fiber of her being.  The mother’s intuition had been dead on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably be delayed at least a few days extra due to real life obligations. Thanks for your patience!


	4. Chapter 4

_Undisclosed Location_

_9 December 2015_

 

Since Fitz’s exhaustion had finally taken its toll, the rise and fall of his chest and the soft buzz of snore became her companions for the past hours.  The soft light from the bedside lamp arced away from the bed as a makeshift reading lamp, casting his slumbering form mostly in shade. 

Eyes drooping, she periodically plodded through a litany of daily updates from the technicians from the chair that sat at his bedside.  At the moment, it was tediously mind numbing.  However, when she dared to stop, her mind wandered into very dangerous territory.

She rubbed her eyes furiously, frantic to stay awake and focused.  She needed to stay strong for Fitz.  She owed him that. 

He inhaled sharply and groaned.  Her eyes snapped back to him and her hand reached out to him instinctually, dragging her thumb up and down his arm.  With the barest tremble, he turned onto his side and curled up towards her warmth.

Jemma released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Careful not to move the arms that still rested on his, she leaned down to the laptop bag by the chair. 

When they arrived in Jemma’s room, Fitz had prodded Jemma to help him return to his room and gather some of his clothing and necessities.  They’d returned with a few items, including a laptop full of the most recent episodes that she’d missed during her forced departure.  Few other things could properly distract her in years past than snuggling up beside Fitz and watching Doctor Who, and she desperately craved a source of normalcy now.

She would alternatively watch a segment of an episode and pause and pull the ear bud out to monitor Fitz for a few minutes.  Mentally checking off a myriad of signs of his well being until she was properly convinced, the ear bud was then replaced and she’d delve further into the adventure in the company of her own companion.

Jemma wasn’t sure exactly when Fitz’s eyes opened, but they were focused where her hand covered his arm. 

She smiled, closing the laptop lid.  “How are you feeling?”

“A bit sore,” he confirmed.  His voice was still gravelly from sleep.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”  Jemma jumped up before he could respond, rushing to the bag of medications and grabbing a water bottle from the shelf.  She tried not to think about just how much that lack of warmth was bothering her at the moment.

“I should be fine in a few minutes.”  He levered himself up to sit against the headboard, ready to accept the pills and the water from her with a crooked grin. 

“You still should have mentioned.  I am here to help.”

He knocked back the medication with a grimace, scanning around the room.  The spare bedroll that Mack had brought around still lay on the floor untouched.  The tablet sat discarded on the bedside table and the laptop was out and on battery power. 

“How long was I out?”  He tipped the bottle back over his lips, watching her expectantly. 

“Well, it is nearly 4 am now.”

He quickly did the mental math before slanting a defiant gaze at her.  “Jemma.  Four hours.”

“It wasn’t—“

“You promised.  Four hours on, four hours off.” 

She huffed, folding her arms signaling to Fitz that she was digging in her heels, ready to fight him. "I’m very concerned about your head injury, Fitz."

Fitz held his ground, unable to keep the affronted look off of his face. "And you were beaten! Tortured! Jem, I heard your screams.  And when Ward went in there-" he stopped taking a calming breathe switching tracks. "You can pretend in front of the others, but not with me. I know what happened and that you need to heal just as much, if not more, than I do."

Jemma got up and moved away, anxious be doing anything else but having this conversation. She busied her hands with organizing the medical supplies that sat atop the shelf.

She dreaded sleep, and the inevitable onslaught of nightmares that were sure to come with it. The last two days provided her with a whole new set of vivid scenarios to plague her subconscious mind. Guilt, her constant companion left a persistent dull, ache in her chest throughout the day. It grew more acute in those twilight hours of solitude before sleep took her. Upon her initial return from Maveth, she only had her little home-made shiv to fend off all her demons. The knowledge that Will had actually died for her and that Fitz had put himself in terrible jeopardy for her again haunted her while she was awake. Then she very nearly lost Fitz as well nearly destroyed her. So as much as dreaded those nightmares were before, they would pale in comparison to what she knew would come.

Rationally, she knew this just fear. A simple yet irrational response guided by a cocktail of neurotransmitters. And yet the irrational could not be so easily dismissed. For heaven’s sake, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that IT was coming for her. Despite the fact Fitz had confirmed that he was well and truly dead.

“Jemma, please.” Fitz’s voice was barely more than a whisper above her shoulder.

She didn't dare risk looking in his eyes, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist them if she did.

“You need to rest.”

“I can’t Fitz.” she countered stubbornly.

“You can. I’ll be here in the room if you need me, just as you’ve been here for me. I only saw a bit of the planet. I can’t pretend to understand it all. But what I saw there in those few hours was nightmarish. I know you didn’t tell me all that happened, and you don’t need to if you don’t want to. Whenever you are ready I'm here. I will always be here for you."

For over a decade they would easily communicate, feeding off of each other’s ideas, giving way to scientific victories and discoveries. Hours of easy endless banter that astounded and baffled class and team mates alike. But now, the silence was deafening. The air was heavy with the promise of future conversations, of issues yet to be resolved, of the relationship that might be.  Instead, she found herself wallowing in darkness, despite the promise of light a few inches away.

 "I don't know what to say," Jemma finally says breaking the silence.

 Fitz tilted his head, lips curving slightly.  “Don’t say anything.  Just sleep.”

* * *

Dawn had barely broken when the echo of the precise clip of heels moving down the hallways. Agent Weaver rapped on the door three down from hers before the echoes had faded.

There was no response for a few moments, and she was about to knock again when she heard approaching footsteps.

The door opened a crack and Leo Fitz peered out blearily. All weariness seemed to evaporate when he caught sight of her. “Agent Weaver!” he exclaimed, stunned to see his mentor standing there.

Smiling pleasantly, Weaver tilted her head to peer into the darkened room. “Agent Fitz. I understood this room belonged to Agent Simmons.”

“I--” He couldn’t quite stem the tide of the blush that brought color to the tips of his cheeks and ears. Not that he’d even had anything to be embarrassed about, for pity’s sake. “I’d rather you not wake her up.  She just managed to fall asleep.”

Weaver tamped down the anger and kept her mask in place. “Ah. Yes, I understood you both had quite the ordeal.”

Fitz nodded slowly unsure how Weaver knew about it when they hadn't even been back at the base for sixteen hours now. He stepped into the hall, closing the door slightly behind him. It would do to have the light or sound wake Jemma up. She'd only managed a few hours of rest so far and it wasn't nearly enough. “I wasn’t aware that you had arrived. Are you here with a new project for us to work on?”

Agent Weaver was ready for this one, “Sadly, no.” she said heavily. “Your mother reached out to me the other day, while you were...away. She was concerned that she hadn’t heard from you in some time. She apparently ran through all the Shield numbers in her emergency contacts, until she finally reached me. You’ll probably want to call her and check in as soon as you are able.”

She watched the young man's eyes grow as wide as saucers and his face turn an even deeper shade or red than when she'd called attention to him being in Agent Simmons room.

"Excuse me," he whispered frantically. Leaving the door open enough for Agent Weaver to see in, he disappeared into the darkness, desperate to find his phone before his mother somehow managed to get her hands on Nick Fury's phone number to inquire about his state of health. Weaver had to use her hand to hide a smile as she could hear a few thumps in the darkness as he stumbled around.

Fitz returned to the door moments later looking even more disheveled, his phone clutched in his hand.

"Agent Weaver," he said still out of breath. "I need five, maybe ten minutes to call my Mum. Could you stay here in case Je--Agent Simmons wakes up? I don’t want her to wake up alone."

“Of course,” she affirmed.

Fitz lingered anxiously in the door clearly still torn, before smiling meekly up at Agent Weaver.

She watched him walking away with marked concern. He was limping a bit and moving quite a bit slower than she otherwise anticipated. Despite that, it appeared that Fitz was as well as could be expected considering the vaguely nefarious descriptions of what had happened that had relayed to her. Perhaps there were more underlying issues than could be addressed over the course of this brief visit. If Coulson proved unsatisfactory in his plans for assistance she would 'persuade' him to bring in a professional. If she offered him, one the new medical and scientific support staff she was fostering or perhaps one of the mentor trainee teams...

Her train of thought was derailed by a loud bang inside the room and a startled cry. “Agent Simmons?”

"Fitz?!" Jemma cried in a heartrending voice Weaver now wished she didn't know the young woman was capable of.

Throwing open the door, it hit the wall with a bang.   Weaver quickly hit the lights and surveyed the room before taking a step inside, somewhat surprised to find it empty except for Agent Simmons.

Coiled for action, Jemma sat up on the bed, her right hand tensely clasping some mysterious object.  Squinting, she drew her left hand above her eyes to help shield the light until her eyes had a few moment to acclimate. 

From this distance, Weaver couldn’t be sure that the young agent was truly awake or just reliving one of the many nightmarish experiences she’d been told the girl had endured.

"Fitz?!  No!  Don't go!" Jemma cried again. 

Jemma clearly wasn't fully awake so weaver spoke again, adding the weight of authority to her voice she knew the girl would respond to. “Agent Simmons? Are you alright?”

The tension seemed to recede as she slumped forward. Confusion marred her features, but at least awareness had returned to her eyes. “Agent Weaver? What are you doing here?”

“I’ll leave Agent Fitz to explain once he returned in a few moments-.”

Jemma now looked panicked. “Where's Fitz! Where have they taken him? Is it his head? Did he start to show signs of internal bleeding?"

“He’s fine,” Weaver assured less than pleased to hear what agent Simmons had been concerned about. “He's calling his mother. I passed him in the hallway and he asked me to watch over you until he could return.”

Sighing audibly, Jemma pulled herself up in bed, wrapping her arms around herself.  She let the shiv subtly fall into a crease in the blankets. She’d need a moment’s privacy to subtlety return it to its hiding place in her boot.

“You were calling out for Agent Fitz.” Agent Weaver asked gently as she sat down in a chair. Her height was usually an asset, but in this situation it might mean the difference between gaining the information she’d need from the startled girl.  She asked gently, “Was he taken on your last mission?”

“We both were.” Jemma said. "There is a very active splinter of Hydra still out there. They kidnapped and tortured us both for access to the monolith portal.”

“They needed you to activate it?” At mention of the portal, the anger flared to life and Weaver had to fight to keep her voice calm.

“No." Jemma said hollowly. "According to Malick, their leader, they've been opening it for ages. They needed our help getting back, to bring some monster from that other world home."

Weaver remained silent, her eye prompting Jemma to continue.

"Agent Ward was there too, he split us up, physically tortured me for what seemed like hours, before dragging me into the castle.” Jemma fought hard to keep the tears from welling in her eyes. “I saw the portal and thought they were going to force me through but…Fitz agreed to take a band of Hydra soldiers onto the planet in exchange for my safely."

Weavers mask finally broke, horror written across her face, although not precisely for the reasons Simmons might think at the moment.

“Ward took him from me.  Fitz had barely anything except the clothes on his back and the tablet for the portal location software when he went through. Somehow, Agent Coulson also made it through, and they both made it back.  I don't know everything that happened, but Fitz took a good knock to the head and was in an altercation with IT. After his hypoxia, any trauma of that sort…he requires careful monitoring."

"And so does she," Fitz said firmly from the door surprising both women.

For the first time, Weaver watched Jemma physically relax at the sight of him.

Fitz crossed the room with a few purposeful strides, sitting down on the bed, and letting her tuck up against him.  "She had it so much worse," Fitz added meeting his mentor’s eyes.

“Agent Simmons, how long you intend monitor him before medical clearance would be appropriate?"

Jemma looked apprehensive. “I think we should need three days at least or a week to be conservative. We also will need to repeat the scan to confirm that no marked changes are occurring.”

Nodding, Weaver stood up letting it all sink in. Coulson had a lot of explaining to do about how all the safely protocols that had been put in place seemed to have been ignored or failed. “I need to check in with Director Coulson, but I’d like to check back in with you both before I leave to see if there are any lab resources you need.”

“Alright—“

 “--Thank you.” They said in unison.

Pleased to hear that some things seemed to have never changed, Weaver smiled. “Until later, then.”

“You had a nightmare?” Fitz asked as soon as the door closed with a click.

Jemma nodded, somewhat thankful for the unexpected distraction to have taken the edge off her anxiety. “Not one I’d like to live through again.”

“Like I said, I’m right here, and I'm not going anywhere,” he comforted. He extended his arms to each side, balancing his weight backwards slightly.

She smiled. “I know. Thank you.”

Fitz’s fingers brushed against something hard on the bed, drawing his eyes down with the puzzled frown.  “Jemma? What is this?”

* * *

Weaver closed the door to the bunks as calmly as she could, thankful to hear the latch before she let out and angry sigh. She now knew the basics of what had happened to her charges.  Now she need to find out how they wound up in the clutches of Hydra in the first place.

The sharp, staccato pulse of her heels against the floor was the only signal that betrayed her growing agitation as she paced the halls, trying to determine her next best move.  She had every intention of airing her displeasure to Director Coulson, but she needed to literally cool her heels and approach the failings with the full brunt of the facts.  Agent Simmons mentioned that they'd been taken from a mission, so perhaps it was best to start there.

She paused, smoothing her fingers over her hair, and considered the best possible place to find information. Since the base didn’t seem to have something like the Boiler Room she decided on the next best thing, the kitchen. She could do with a strong cup or tea right now.  Assuming the Agents were up and about at this early hour, if she wanted to find gossip that was likely the best place for it.

Weaver rounded the corner and spotted, Agents Morse and Hunter already in the mess.  Leaning against the kitchenette, Agent Morse had already spotted her and fixed her with a cautious smile.  But Agent Hunter was busy cooking breakfast, nursing an otherwise non-descript brown bottle as his attention split between preparing the food and bantering with his ex-wife.

“Good Morning, Agent Morse. Agent Hunter.” She smiled amiably at them both, as she rummaged through the cabinet for the appropriately sized mug.

“Good Morning,” Bobbi returned, cocking her head just so.  

Hunter knew that move, Bobbi was trying to figure Weaver out. “What brings you to base so early?”

“I’ve come to debrief Agent Coulson on the recruitment status.” Setting the mug down on the counter with a clink, Weaver was eager to find any excuse to not meet Agent Morse’s rather penetrating gaze. She returned her focus back towards the cabinets in hopes that Agents Fitz or Simmons had a secret stash of tea hidden about. Coffee would do in a pinch, but it was certainly not her preferred option. “I stopped to check in on Agent Fitz and Agent Simmons this morning. I wanted to get their requirements for potential science agents, only to find they were indisposed...”

Hunter let out something akin to a growl and Morse narrowed her eyes. She had clearly struck a nerve.

Allowing herself a mildly surprised lift of eyebrows, she pressed on. “I expected to find them both in the lab, until one of the technicians told me they had been injured on mission--”

Bobbi shook her head silently, trying to cue to Weaver to not divulge where Fitz and Simmons were.

“--not convalescing in Agent Simmons’ room.”

Hunter gagged on this drink, coughing and sputtering words Weaver could not identify, before tipping the bottle back for another swig. “Really?” he asked hopefully.

Eyes reaching skyward, Bobbi was anxious to ground Hunter’s avenue of inquiry. “So, you interrupted them when they were supposed to be resting? I suppose you did notice the bruising…”

But Hunter was like a dog after a bone with that little tidbit. “And were they? Resting, that is?”

Agent Weaver allowed herself a small internal smile as she lifted the coffee to her lips; Morse wasn't the only one who could read people. So she was quick to match Hunter’s inquiry. “Agent Fitz answered the door, but Agent Simmons was resting when I arrived.” She shrugged as if it were nothing watching the man's eyes widen. “I asked Fitz to consider their staffing needs, and will check on them again before I leave.”

Hunter now looked more than mildly disappointed, as he shut off the stove and filled his own plate. Agent Morse was still decidedly vexed.

“Is it normal for them to be out in the field? Scientific minds at their level are tremendously rare and valuable.” Carefully tempering her concern with a confounded frown, she pressed on. “In all my years at Sci Ops, they were probably the strongest recruits we’ve ever produced."

Hunter was not completely oblivious to the mental game of chess the two women before him were playing, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two.

Bobbi took a few moments, carefully calculating her response. “They have been out when the missions required their technical knowledge or expertise. Usually every effort is taken to ensure their safety--”

“Not this time is wasn't, they were kidnapped by a madman.” Hunter volunteered moodily.

Weaver was aghast; she turned her head away in an effort to mask any tells she might otherwise unsuccessfully stifle. “How long did it take Director Coulson to go after them? To realize they had been taken? And I'm sure every resource was immediately put on it.”

She was answered with a silence that spoke volumes.

“Not…exactly.” Bobbi admitted, confirming Weavers fears. “Hydra deliberately drew them out, and Grant Ward executed the plan. He struck a very personal blow to Coulson, causing a chain reaction of events that stretched our resources to the point they were sent to that facility with minimal backup.”

Weaver felt the veins pulse behind her eyes as she clenched her jaw tightly. Coulson was playing fast and loose with their best hope for Shield’s scientific future. Even if other factors weren’t at play, in this moment she could quite cheerfully throttle him and not feel the least bit guilty about it. Newly re-aligned Shield 3.0 be damned. She looked up to find Bobbi, in particular, examining her carefully.

“We were with Coulson when we learned of their abduction-" Hunter muttering something Weaver couldn't catch under his breath. "He used a rather unorthodox method of obtaining Wards location. And once we confirmed their location, the Playground was nearly evacuated to get them back from the Hydra base...we just didn't get there in time to stop--"

“Their injuries,” Bobbi added, attempting to defuse whatever situation was brewing with Agent Weaver. She pointedly left out any mention of the portal or Fitz being forced through it. “We were lucky to not lose anyone. We even de-commissioned the base and a good deal of their manpower.” Hunter made an exploding motion with his hands.

Weaver simply nodded, fighting to tighten her control. 

"Well, if this whole fiasco has a bright side it's that Simmons is not letting that boy out of her sight anytime soon.  And if the tension gets high enough we might get some fireworks finally. Fitz has the patience of a saint, but Dr. Simmons might just be too much for him after all is said and done."

Bemused, Weaver lifted her brows.  "Really? Are they seriously not dating already?”

Bobbi shook her head.  “No.”

“Not for any lack of trying on our part, though,” Hunter muttered.

Weaver chuckled, letting her eyes grow misty in nostalgia.  “The professors were even running a pool at the Academy." She scoffed. "Even better, they thought I didn't know. Honestly, did they forget we work for a spy agency?"

Hunter coughed awkwardly. 

“I did have to shut it down eventually.”  Weaver leaned back against the counter, sipping a bit more coffee.   “One of the professors--Vaughn, I think—decided to rig the odds and kept slipping references to Section 17 throughout his lesions.”

 “Section 17?”  Hunter blinked.

Bobbi smirked.  “That would be the Shield anti-fraternization policy.”

Grinning, Hunter could not restrain a cackle.   “Yeah.  Glad I missed out on that one… and that Coulson doesn't seem as concerned with it.”

* * *

Frowning, Fitz held up the shiv, lightly sliding a finger along the slightly ragged edge.  “Is this bone?”

 “It’s nothing Fitz, honestly.”  Jemma fidgeted.  “Just give it back.”

“You made this, didn’t you?”  Fitz clutched the handle, examining the weight and heft with an impressed expression.  Clearly, she had picked up a few of his tricks over the years.  “Over there?”

“Tools and materials were sparse.  I had do make do the best I can.”

Fitz handed the shiv back to her.  “I haven’t seen you carrying it around.  Actually, I don’t remember seeing it in your belongings when you first came back.”

“I’ve kept it in my sock or shoe, ever since you brought me back.”  She shuddered as a wave of unwanted, unpleasant memories hit her.  “The time on the planet showed me that I should have been better prepared.”

Eyes widening, Fitz had a moment of clarity.  “You had it with you when we were kidnapped.”

She nodded.  “I couldn’t get to it on the plane over. Then, after they separated us, I was afraid of what they might do to you if they caught me with it.  After Ward took you, I was able to use it to break out of the bindings.”

He grew quiet a moment, before slowly easing back off the bed and heading towards his bag. “I hate that you think you need something to defend yourself all the time. But I can’t argue that it has been necessary.” Pulling out a pad of paper and pencil, he dropped back into the chair next to her. “We have the resources, let’s improve upon the design. Yeah?”

Jemma beamed, as his capacity for kindness once again nearly overwhelmed her. "Just for a little bit on account of your head.” She started to pace as the ideas started to flow. There were plenty of things that came to mind but the site of the ugly bruises on her wrist became her first priority.  "A way of breaking bindings...and we must be careful of the material. Hydra has other Inhumans.  Giyera would have taken anything metal in an Instant.  If I understood his powers correctly, I would have probably lost it if it was a metal tool."

Before long they had puzzled out a basic design outline, a slightly boxy container that could hold a series of tools and chemical cartridges: a fast hardening agent that be used to pick a lock, a dendrotoxin dose, a first aid salve that could rapidly halt bleeding, a scalpel sized knife, and a more menacing serrated edge number.  There were a series of buttons that could shift the pieces to move into the deployment slot. 

Jemma peered over his shoulder, noting the three words at the bottom of the page: "Fitz Army Knife".

She couldn’t help but smile as rolled her eyes. “We aren’t calling it that.”

Soon enough, the preliminary sketch was finished with a smattering of design notes scrawled into the margins. Jemma convinced Fitz to sleep before they’d head off to the lab to work on putting the designs into a working prototype.  He was like he was at the academy when struck with a new idea, so excited he was practically vibrating.  The ideas flowed so easily, the banter returned so readily that it felt in many ways like they had just before stepping on the Bus years ago.  She allowed herself a sad smile, her chest growing heavy with the weight of hundreds of missed opportunities and the hundreds of complications it brought. 

Fitz must have felt it, too.  He somberly accepted another dose of pain medication before crawling into bed under the covers.  She settled in next to him with the sketch pad in hand, promising to think further on what else might be useful in a cartridge form and a better name. He grumbled about that as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

A knock drew Jemma from her cozy spot, curled against Fitz, to the door a short while later. Thinking it was Bobbi or possibly Weaver again she didn't hesitate to answer.

 “Simmons.” Coulson smiled benevolently as she opened the door. “I came to check and you and Fitz.” She regarded him carefully before stepping out the door, closing it mostly behind her, unknowingly mirroring the actions of her partner just a few hours earlier.

 “Fitz is sleeping right now. We’re proceeding cautiously until we know if there will be further complications to his head injury.”

 “How long will that take?” Coulson inquired with a tinge of impatience in his voice.

 “He should need a few days at least.” Jemma countered folding her arms, making now effort to hide her own annoyance.

 Coulson frowned as he absently scratched the arm above his replacement hand. Until Fitz could engineer and build a new one he was wearing one of his earlier more uncomfortable models. “I need his help much sooner than that.  Daisy and Mack are off running down some other leads at the castle, and May is with them in case Lash returns.  We need to get back into the Distant Star facility as soon as possible to search for any clues in the computer systems on where Malick might have escaped. Unless you two had time to look around initially.”

 Her jaw dropped in sheer disbelief.  Anger like she had never felt before flaring at their leader. “Fitz and I aren’t going anywhere near there.”

 Coulson tipped his head to the side. “Agent Simmons, you wouldn’t be going. Bobbi will need your help going over the post-mission medical report for Lincoln and Joey to ensure they are fully fit for duty.”

 “So you want Fitz to be at risk? Again?” Her face reddening as she attempted to suppress her growing ire. “Are you quite mad? Do you think Malick is not still having the facility monitored? That he won't suspect you'd come back to look for clues?” She tried to calm herself. "Sir, they have been trying to get that thing back for over 1000 years. Blowing up his castle will do little to deter him, he knows how to get there, he knows we know how to come back, and he WILL come after us again. Force us to finish what we started!"

 Coulson had very little time to process her outburst before Weaver rounded the corner, with a steely smile.

 Strategically, she edged herself between Coulson and Simmons. “Director Coulson. Just the man I wanted to see.”

 “Agent Weaver, it is good to see you.” His good hand extended for a handshake, surprised to see her.  He hadn't been notified of her arrival.

 Weaver reciprocated the greeting, with a smile directly solely to her protege. “Agent Simmons, I will stop past to visit with you both a bit later if that is alright with you.”

 Jemma could only nod, watching incredulously as Weaver followed Coulson back to his office. Coulson was simply being irrational. How could he possibly think of sending Fitz out so soon and before he had recovered?

 She sighed, opening the door to her room. She expected to find Fitz still asleep, not pacing behind the door.

 “Jemma, I don’t know what you are doing, but I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. I can handle Coulson on my own.”

 “Fitz,” she assured, pushing the door closed behind her and trying to soothe his ruffled feathers. “I know very well that you are more than capable.  You were asleep, and I thought for sure it was Bobbi or Agent Weaver checking in again.  Had I known it was Coulson, I wouldn't have opened the door. I never thought I’d be saying this, but I’m not sure that we can trust Coulson.  I really want to work on the prototype so we can at least both have one the next time we are sent out.”  ”

Fitz watched with a frown.  The enforced medical leave was frustrating in that he was being forced to examine all of his feelings for Jemma with her in dangerously close proximity.  Right now, self-doubt was rearing its ugly head.   “So, if I was awake, you’d have let me handle him?”

 “Yes, of course.  But since you’ve got us talking in hypothetical situations, what would have you have done if Coulson told you he wanted me to go back to the facility and you stay here in the lab with Bobbi?" Jemma pressed, her voice growing simultaneously more forceful and breathless by the word.  “Because I can’t help but notice that you keep putting yourself in danger because of me.   I cannot bear the thought of losing you.” 

 Fitz expelled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

 "Do you have any idea how helpless it makes me feel when you do that?  Put your own life at risk over and over as if it meant nothing?” She drew a deep breath, daring to close the distance between them.  “You mean the world to me, Fitz.”

 “And I already told you that I couldn’t live in a world without you in it, Jemma.” 

 “Do you truly think it isn’t the same for me?  I had to live through it three times now.  And each time was more miserable than the last.”

 “Three?”

 "After the med-pod, you were in a coma for days.  I read everything I could get my hands on.  After you woke up, I didn’t know how to help you.  It physically hurt to watch you struggle.  The more I tried to treat you like it was any other day in the years we’ve known each other, the more frustrated you became.  Your symptoms grew worse.”

 “Coulson noticed, and he gave me the chance to infiltrate Hydra and gain knowledge to prevent Ward from ever harming you again.  I had to become hard; I had to protect myself.   And the whole time, I never knew if I was ever helping you.  When I did return, you didn’t understand.  You pushed further away."

 Fitz sighed.  "Then you were swept away to that awful place.  You fell in love with another man.  One who actually could protect you and keep you safe.”  Fitz cursed himself silently.  “I had to accept that, to allow you whatever time you needed.  To help you bring him back. But at the same time I was being selfish because it hurts, Jemma. To know I missed my chance. Knowing that I failed you, I couldn't bring him back and couldn’t make you happy."

 Jemma was stunned. This is what he really thought? What had been eating at him since she revealed what had happened on Maveth? That he could not make her happy. Simply ignoring over a decade of friendship? Her confession on her phone about the future she wanted, with him? The kisses they had shared? Those weren't enough to shed a bit of light as to what he was to her.

 Before she could speak he continued the pain evident on his face. "Just because you can't feel the same for me doesn't mean I wouldn't give up the world to keep you safe. I won't apologize for protecting you but know I never meant for you to feel helpless because of it. I couldn't let them hurt you anymore. Nor was I going to allow them to drag you back to that hell while I could do something about it."

 Jemma rubbed the bridge of her nose unsure of where to start. “Will was a friend," she clarified, emphasizing the last word.  "One who lived through that misery for so long.  He helped me survive, gave me hope when I lost y--hope of ever getting home.  Fitz, I am ashamed at myself that I lost hope while you never gave up.  I am physically ill that I am alive today at Will’s expense.  I could have saved him, saved Trip, spared you--“  With every word the volume and ferocity of her voice escalated.

 Without another word, Fitz had enveloped her in his arms. They’d need to talk, and sometime soon, when the tensions weren’t nearly so high. When, she had more time to process what she’d need to heal from her grief, her guilt.  “Jemma, I know you can't see it right now. But you need to know that absolutely none of what happened to Trip, Will, me, or anyone else you have in that brilliant mind of yours is your fault.”

 Jemma remained silent, instead hugging him more tightly. Her head was pressed to his chest, but her eyes had dropped to the floor.

* * *

Weaver kept the topics to small talk as they trekked up to Coulson’s office, aware of the many agents now filtering through the halls. “The recruitment mission has been going well. We’ve been bringing the new scientific staff in under the auspices of a select new government agency tasked with the study of xenobiology. Given the recent events, there has been a definite interest.” She eyes the back of Coulson’s head meaningfully, as they approached the door to his office. “However, I would not count on any field level scientists to come from this program."

“Thank you for the update. Now,” Coulson turned around and faced her from the edge of his desk, gesturing to a chair. “Why don’t you tell me why you are really here?”

Weaver was far too used to standard posturing and opted to remain standing. “You know that since Agent Fitz and Simmons set foot into the academy grounds I had had them under my wing. It was particularly challenging with the extra hoops and concessions necessary for the first set of minors we had in our facilities. Not only on the campus level. I had to make a specific and crucial agreement with Mrs. Fitz in particular. He is her only son and all the family she has left.”

Coulson grimaced. Considering his family situation, that point hit close to home.

It was then it seemed a switch flipped within Weaver. Her eyes narrowed and her voice dropped to dangerous levels. “I watched over Fitz for years at the Academy and Sci-Ops without a single incident. I combed through the hundreds of requests that flooded in when they became available for assignment. Initially, they were set to go provide scientific support to Gonzales on the Iliad. But then you and your baked goods came along--”

Coulson smirked. “Baked goods haven't failed me yet.”

Weaver sighed. “Don't be so cocky.  They still would have gone there except that Fury himself gave his personal blessing.  Saying you could be trusted to keep him, them safe. Did you know that Gonzales was given instructions by Fury that if anything happened to you, their protection would fall to him?  I only became aware after I found them while cleaning out his office on the Iliad."

Coulson’s mouth went dry.  He had the sense that this was more than just a mentor worried about a former student.

Weaver pressed on. "More importantly, there are supposed to be further details of Fitz’s protection in Fury’s tool box. I assume this is at least part of why Gonzales was so adamant on opening the box.”

“I would have never entertained you as an option for them in the first place, but Maria Hill assured me that they were never intended to go into the field under your watch. You were told that quite explicitly.” Hands clenched at her side, she continued. “How long did that last? One mission? That turned to two, three, and now it seems common for Fitz at the very least to run field support for you. And now," she hissed, "you are now rushing tortured, injured, and clearly traumatized agents back into the field in a desperate and careless move.”

Coulson pulled himself to full height. “I am doing what needs to be done. Fitz and Simmons are just fine; they'll bounce back like they always do.”

“They shouldn't have to bounce back from anything. Over and over you failed to keep him safe. Fitz was kidnapped twice by Hydra, dropped into the ocean and sent to the alien planet he shouldn't be anywhere near! Do you have any idea how much is in jeopardy right now, Coulson?" Weaver snarled. "Forces are in play here you can't even imagine. You have compromised decades of work, purely out of revenge! I'm sure Ms. Price was a lovely woman but you knew her for what a few months at most."

Coulson stood pressing his knuckles into his against his desk, seething with anger. "She was murdered right in front of me and bled out in my arms!"

"She was an agent; she knew the risks! And is this what she would have wanted? Would she have wanted Fitz and Simmons kidnapped, tortured, and taken to a hostile alien world in her name? I think not, Philip. From what I've understand, she wanted to protect innocents. And the two most innocent on your team did get hurt because of what you did in her name. You didn't avenge her. You tainted her memory."

Coulson was at a loss for words. Weaver didn't even know what had happened with Ward or how Fitz had his own standoff with the possessed astronaut on the planet. He had a feeling if she did it would only make matters worse.

Weaver’s eyes narrowed. “If I hear even the slightest whisper that has me concerned with regard to the safety of either Agent Fitz or Agent Simmons again, I will take them out of your bumbling hands.

Coulson gritted his teeth. “Was that a threat? I am the Director, Agent Weaver, I make the decisions of who goes where and they are both staying here."

Weaver stood her ground. “Do not underestimate me or the others out there, Director. Decades have been invested in keeping that boy safe, and we will not have you mucking it up now. And as I said before there is more in play here than you can even imagine. It wasn't a threat, it is a promise.” She spun on her heel, slamming the door shut behind her with a rattle.

Coulson glared at the door for nearly a minute, before he accessed the toolbox.

Thanks to their dealings with the "Real" Shield, Fitz had built a new hidden vault into the brick wall. He pulled the tiny black box up from the case and began to work it open. What on earth had Gonzales accessed while he had it? And what had he apparently missed that was so important about one of his own agents?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to LettertoElise for helping to beta read this chapter!

_Undisclosed Location_

_21 December 2015_

* * *

Awareness first registered in his mind as warmth and comfort.  He could hardly remember feeling so comfortable and fought the nagging pull to awaken, but his muscles stiffly protested the lack of motion.

Blearily he squinted towards his alarm clock, eyes heavy from sleep. He blinked, disconcerted not to meet its usual green glow. His eyes widened in the still dim light, meeting Jemma’s head, her hair fanning out on the pillow beside him.

He blinked, disconcerted not to meet the usual green glow of his alarm clock.  Eyes widening in the still dim light, as his eyes met Jemma’s head, her hair fanning out on the pillow beside him.

They must have both fallen asleep after Weaver had returned.  Their former mentor was agitated for a reason neither could pinpoint and requested they send her an itemized list of every type of resource--manpower, supplies, and equipment--they might need to continue to grow the Science Division. Cost was mostly deemed no object.  

Weaver's obvious distress had spurred them into completing the task quickly, leaving a bit more time than they had originally anticipated for he and Jemma to settle in to watch a bit of Doctor Who. Jemma needed as much normal as he could accommodate right now and these binge-watch sessions had spanned nearly the whole of their friendship. Over the years, it had not been uncommon for them to be sitting side by side in the limited space of a dorm room, an apartment, or a bunk to watch and then quibble about the current story line. On a truly rare occasion, they might have found themselves snuggled up against one another after nodding off.

But this was new.

His arm was shoved up under the pillow, cushioning her head, her nose almost nuzzled against his chest, expelling warm puffs of breath with each exhale. She must have fallen asleep while checking his head, as the palm of her hand lay at the base of his neck, fingers barely ruffling the short curls just above. Her other hand pressed against his chest, blessedly providing a few spare inches of space between them.

He scowled, mentally berating himself.  Bad enough that his bladder already sounded the clarion call, but the scent of her hair just below his nose and his growing awareness of the soft warmth and pressure of her skin ensured that relief would have to wait quite a bit longer. Possibly once he managed a nice, cold shower.

Shifting his head back slightly to maneuver out of her hold, Fitz was a bit startled to find she actually pulled herself closer.  Her head burrowed closer to his neck, fingers sliding into his hair.  Stifling a groan, he lay backwards, hoping to lever out of her hold enough to wriggle out of the bed.

Frowning, Jemma pursued again, dragging her leg up over his thigh.  “Please,” her voice rumbled against his arm.

Fitz let out an anguished grunt.  She was perilously close to making this very uncomfortable for both of them as soon as she woke up.  It seemed like every time he pulled away, she just pulled closer.

Somewhere from the back of his mind, he could practically hear Jemma’s voice chiming in recitation:  “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”  

‘Christ.’  This was quite possibly the worst time for physics puns.

Screwing his eyes shut, he bit the bullet.  He needed to get away before he embarrassed himself thoroughly.  With one deep breath, he slid down the length of the bed through the gap in her arms.

"No! Please don't take him!"

He froze just inches from freedom, glancing back at her anxiously, her knuckles still white where they clutched his shirt so tightly.  Halting breaths punctuated the silence.

Fitz sighed heavily.  Well, that was one particularly effective way to get rid of his growing…problem.  His fingertips tapped lightly at her shoulder.  “Jemma, are you awake?”

She didn't move for a few moments before she let out a small gasp and nodded, letting the cover of dim light mask the tears already streaming down her cheeks.

“I’m here. I am fine,” he assured, wanting to go and hold her. Feeling like the worst sort of heel, he darted to the bathroom. “Be back in a minute.”

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms as she pulled herself up to sit against the headboard, Jemma darted glances towards the door, somehow doubting the veracity of Fitz’s safety, despite his own assurances to the contrary.  The sound of running water resonating should have reassured her that all was well.

“For heaven’s sakes,” she murmured aloud, dragging her fingers through her hair.  “Fitz could have had his injury exacerbated and I could have slept through it.”   

Fitz winced as the door creaked loudly, making a mental note to grab some WD-40 to dampen the noise while they were both alternated sleep schedules.  Jemma sat very still on the bed, staring forward blankly.

He frowned.  She must have been having nightmares about losing Will.  Surely Will would have known the best way to deal with it.  Right now, he could do little more to help her than to wake her up and distract her.

“Do you want to maybe watch a bit more?”

Jemma jumped, far more startled by his reappearance than he would have expected.  Her eyes were unfocused, even glassy, but she still nodded silently.

“What about grabbing a bit of tea?  Or maybe heading to the lab?  We could work on the Fitz Army Knife.”

Lips curving, her eyes snapped into enough focus for a shadow of an eye roll.  “Fitz,” she murmured before silently weighing her options, voice still a bit gravelly from sleep.  “The lab, I think.  But only after we do a quick check up on your head in the med bay.”

So concerned with her state, he did not fight when she mentioned the med bay. Instead, he held his hand out to her, helping her up from the bed.  He grabbed the design notebook and walked behind her as they wound their way through the brick labyrinth to the med bay. At least there were a few of her reactions he still found predictable after all they had both been through. He wasn’t quite sure what was driving her zealous caution, but it almost seemed like she doubted herself and her ability. If a little bit of his discomfort could reassure her, it would be worth it.

“At least it is early enough that we can get a few good hours of work done, before all the technicians are up and about.”

* * *

Daisy sauntered into Coulson’s office, fresh off the evening recon run and tablet ready with the mission data in hand.  “You wanted to see me?”

Puzzled frown forgotten, he looked up with a smile.  “Skye.  Yes.  I—“

A mischievous sparkle lit her eyes in spite of her well justified fatigue.  “Yes, ‘AC’?”

His brows furrowed momentarily until he realized his lapse.

“Well, I guess it should be ‘DC’ now…”

“Sorry.”  His smile was purely self-depreciating.  “I will get it right without the reminder someday, Daisy.  Yes.  I ran across something that requires your particular expertise…and discretion.”

She raised her eyebrows and settled back into the chair.

“I’ve been going through Fury’s Toolbox, searching for anything that might be able to assist us in finally routing out Hydra once and for all.  I’ve been able to view and review most of the files, including any accessed more recently.  I’ve sent a few off to Billy and Sam to see what they can chase down for us but I came across one with an encryption that our systems can’t seem to break.”

“And you need me to crack it?”  Daisy looked eager to dust off her hacking skills.  Surely it would be a bit slower than usual, since her training these days focused more on less subtle means of entry.

“And return it to me unopened.”  His metal hand set down against the desk, as he pulled a flash drive from his locked desk drawer.  His eyes leapt to the drive.  “Fury was very guarded with his secrets, and there is not even the slightest hint as to what this pertains.”

* * *

The dark circles under Jemma’s eyes are more apparent in the dim lab light.  She sipped her tea for the caffeine, in hopes it would help to stave off the cognitive effects of sleep deprivation.  As she reviewed the draft design document from earlier, she peered up at Fitz, hard at work from across the lab bench.

His tongue snuck out, the very tip pressed between his lips in concentration as he fiddled with the newly formed plastic casings, inserting in a few of the currently blank, plastic cartridges.  Some of the needles and minor electronics would to need to be metallic for the sake of function and size limitations, but at least it would be minimal in case they ran into another Inhuman with the ability to manipulate metal.

He tested the dispense button, examining how readily the test cartridge popped out.  Mostly satisfied, he slid one of the knife containers across the bench, his eyes locking with hers.  “What do you think?”

Tracing a finger along the open edge, she eyed the casing.  “It needs something to subtlety relay the location. We can’t rely on the protection of others.  These past few years have more than proven that.”

“A tracker?” Frowning, he forced his mind to consider what could be miniaturized and which metallic components could be substituted out for safety.  He mulled over the best route to transmit the location that would not potentially alert enemies.: Radio signal? GPS? Maybe they’d need to work on some new variant for the next version. “We’d probably need something that would be activated automatically.”

She slid the casing back over to him.  “Absolutely.  Whenever Hydra has been involved, we both keep getting kidnapped.  Malick is still out there.  I think it is very safe to assume they will try to bring IT across again.”  She looked quite pleased.  “Their scientists are not very capable.  They would have screwed up the re-opening timing with shoddy mathematics, except that I told them they were wrong.  If Malick doesn’t realize they would need us again, he is far less clever than I suspect.”

“You think he is going to come back for us?”

Jemma paused, before turning and pacing the length of the bench.  Fitz knew this meant she was incredibly stressed from their days the academy.  “I can’t imagine they wouldn’t.  They didn’t accomplish their mission, one they’ve been secretly working on for centuries.  Fitz, they know we can travel quite freely between the worlds and they know how to make us do it--” She bit her lip, “and since I couldn’t keep quiet about the calculations for your sake, we would still be targets for them.  I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that.”

Fitz grew quiet, watching her pace.  He hadn't realized she'd helped Malick in any way, let alone for him. “I’m not sorry. You made sure I could get back safely.” he said making sure to meet her in the eye.

Smiling sadly, she halted and met his gaze. “Because of that, I am the one that put us at risk again. Risk of torture, the planet, or who knows what else they would do to us.” Her hand pressed to her forehead, staving off the ache that ebbed. “I’m just so tired, Fitz. I’m not sure what I would do if they took you again.”

The weight of her words made him ache and in her daze she didn't even seem to realize what she had said. “We are in this together, Jemma.” He said as he reached his hand across the bench towards her, offering what meager warmth and comfort it would provide. He was somewhat surprised when she took his hand eagerly. “We’ll be prepared this time. I’ll even give Daisy and Mack copies of the signal codes once the prototype kits are assembled.”

Biting her lip, she nods at him.

He smiles gently.  “Now, what else should we build into your kit?”

* * *

Melinda May had just cleaned up after her morning workout and was still towel drying her hair, when the call from Agent Weaver came in.

She had been out on the recovery mission when Weaver arrived on her whistle stop visit and had very little contact with her since Weaver had left to find new scientific recruits after Jemma was pulled through the rock.

She punched up the chat menu on her laptop and answered the call.

Weaver smiled.  “Good Morning, Agent May.  Sorry to disturb you so early.  I wanted to talk to you about adding some staffing at the Playground.”

May tilted her head at the screen, considering where their current gaps might possibly be.  “What were you thinking?”

“Well, to be quite honest, I was very concerned for Agents Fitz and Simmons after my visit.  Both clearly had gone through an ordeal during their kidnapping.”  Weaver paused, a contrite smile plastered in place.  “I’d like to send one of the staff psychologists to work with them both.  Of course, I understand the difficulty with Dr. Garner and that you personally have been assisting others through some more traumatic ordeals.  But I was afraid you might have your hands full.  And Fitz and Simmons are our highest value scientific assets still within the agency.

May was introspective, although she definitely felt a flash of pain at mention of Andrew, however, she did understand the need.  Her very physical approach worked well for specialists, but with the scientists it might not be nearly as effective.  And with no family of her own, Daisy, Jemma, and Fitz had come to feel like her foster children.  “Did you already speak to Coulson about this?”

Weaver’s smile grew tight.  “I told him that I found both to be quite traumatized and that I would do as needed to protect them.

Blinking, May knew there was more to the story and made note to discuss Weaver's visit with Coulson himself.

“I am sending my top candidate to the Playground with one of our Shield pilots. The old adage about Doctors being the worst patients has more than a grain of truth, and I’m more concerned about the correct fit to aid Agent Simmons.”

May knew from her tone that there was no room for argument. With the decision being made for him, it would be up to her to handle any ruffled feathers on Coulson’s part. “And when will this Doctor arrive?”

“Unless the flight was delayed, he should arrive tonight.”

* * *

Jemma had finished filling the cartridge ampoules with a sufficient dose of dendrotoxin.  “We will need to color code to not inadvertently draw the wrong ampoule.  Especially depending on what mix of cartridges is used in each kit.”

Fitz nodded, leaning down over a second version of a newly formed knife model.  It was more of a stiletto blade with a sharp edge: a low weight, high density plastic with a serrated indentation along the otherwise dulled back edge.  It would be slender enough to retract from the space between the cartridges on either side.  He would need to put it through the tensile strength paces and then ensure either of them could wield it for low level function while locked into position.

“What colors were you thinking?  Blue for the dendrotoxin?”

“Of course.”

“Maybe red for the coagulants?  With purple for the basic first aid:  Antibiotics, sanitizers and such.”

“And yellow or any toxins or corrosives we might develop.”

A crash was heard from the other side of the lab.  Both Fitz and Simmons snapped their focus up from their benches.

“All right over there, Miller?”

“Yes, Ma’am.  Just moving something a bit heavier than I expected.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow, surely about to start into a solid diatribe on lab safety procedures.

Fitz cut her off.  “Just ask for help next time.  We don’t really have the unlimited resources here anymore.  We don’t need to damage you or the equipment.”

Agent Miller nodded, anxiously looking between the two and then down at the bright yellow cartridge Dr. Simmons was rolling between her fingers.  “Maybe I’ll grab a cup of coffee and try to come back with fresh eyes.”

Jemma smiled a bit too widely.  “That would probably be best.”

Fitz blinked as Miller practically dashed out of the room, but otherwise carried on unfazed.  “I was thinking about the trackers. I thought I might re-tool a set of watches with a second set of trackers when I start the tensile strength tests.”

Jemma moved over to his side of the bench, pulling out one of the stools closer to have a conversation that mostly didn’t involve shouting across the lab.  “What exactly were you thinking?”

“They’d be functional trackers.  But, we could use them more for the purposes of deterrent. I wouldn’t think most enemies would expect a redundancy from that angle, which should allow us to keep the trackers live for much longer in the event of a bad situation.”

Her smile was suddenly more sincere, feeling the infectious wave of nostalgia for their many years of collaborative efforts.  “More if we found some alternate spot to hide the cartridge.  I had the shiv in my sock, but that still might have been risky had they actually searched.”

He leaned a bit closer.  “What if we adjusted the gear?  Hollowed out a section of the heel that we could still access with hands bound?”

“It could work.  But what if we—“

Bobbi cleared her throat, and watched with raised brows as both jumped apart, blushing.

Hunter looked like that cat that got the cream, offering up a paper bag.  “Since you missed the big meal, we brought a bit of a snack to tide you over.  One of your techs mentioned you were hard at work in here.”

Jemma accepted the bag, and peeked in, judiciously not meeting either of their eyes.

Eying Jemma carefully, Bobbi asked, “What exactly are you working on?  Coulson wasn’t supposed to assign you anything until your leave is up.”

Fitz was quick to answer.  “Improved field kits with easier portability.”

The playfulness drained from Hunters face as he looked at the components on the table. “With something to cut through rope?” he asked,frowning.

“Or cable ties,” Bobbi echoed, nodding towards their wrists.  They were still an angry shade of purple, reminding Bobbi of her failure to protect them.

“Yes,” Jemma confirmed in a clipped voice. “We were hoping to make prototype kits to carry on ourselves, so we can re-tailor needs for each specific kit before creating the production versions.”

Bobbi smiled, tugging slightly on Hunter’s sleeve to pull him from the room behind her.  “Well, we didn’t want to keep you for long.  Hunter and I were about to go out on a food run.  I figured we’d check and see if there was anything we should pick up for you both.”

“Tea.”

"Crisps.”

Stretching a bit after the door closed behind them, Jemma stood up from her stool.  “I guess we should go and eat.”

Fitz nodded, scanning around his desk eagerly.

“What is it?”

“Ah.  There it is,” he murmured.  “Specs for the new set of drones.  They’re not quite ready for field testing.”

Frowning, she peered over his shoulder, wondering what possibly could be missing.  “What are they still missing?”

“Your review.”

* * *

While Hunter’s arms were loaded down with groceries, Bobbi swiped the keys from his back pocket.  Remotely opening the trunk, she deposited her handful of bags, before hauling herself into the driver’s seat.

With a put upon sigh, Hunter finished stashing the bags, grabbed one of the beer bottles, and closed the trunk.

Meeting his glare with a smile, Bobbi tapped at the keys, making a show of waiting for him to get in.

Stubbornly, he moved as slowly as possible, tugging open the glove box for a tool to open the bottle with.

Rolling her eyes, she leaned back against the seat.  The locals were very concerned with open container laws, so now they would be waiting at least until the bottle was finished off until they could head out.  The last thing they needed was an administrative tie up to unveil their location.

“You know, pushing like you are and chasing down their every move via the lab techs will not get them together any faster.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly be referring to?”

She slanted him an incredulous glare, when he knocked back most of the rest of the bottle.

“What? They are literally both mad for each other.  Half the time I want to just lock them both into a closet, but Mack keeps insisting that’s not giving Fitz a sporting chance.”

“I suppose that the techs are bit more invested because it got super somber in the lab once Jemma disappeared, and not just because of Fitz.  The handful that came onboard with us even mentioned to me that they missed the lightness and the banter.  They are in the lab day in and day out.”  Hunter took one last swig.  “A few get really chatty after a beer or two.  Some of them knew FitzSimmons from the Academy or Sci Ops.  And all were ecstatic at the opportunity to work with the pair of them.”

“Until it all went to hell.”

“Yep.”

Bobbi glanced at him for a quick moment, before backing the vehicle out of the space.  “You know they need time.  Simmons needs to figure out what, if anything, Will meant to her and grieve accordingly.  And Fitz needs to see that she means business.”

“I can’t really understand why he seems to have no confidence.  I know we didn’t really know him before his injury, but he is still brilliant.”

Smirking, Bobbi rolls her eyes.  She didn’t even need to say the words for him to hear the inevitable dig.

But Hunter was too pre-occupied, frowning down at a message on his phone.  “We need to get back now.”

Hunter and Bobbi rushed towards the lab, leaving the groceries in the kitchen for Daisy to put away, to find all the techs huddled outside the door. In fact, it had seemed part of the lab had been moved into the halls as tablets and lab reports were strewn about the floor. Poor Agent Miller just lost a rousing round of Roshambo and was preparing to re-enter the lab with a grim look on his face.  "Are you sure we need that file?" he asked peering in the door.

Looking for the quarantine lights, Bobbi surveyed the lab through the glass doors. Everything appeared all right, none of the alarms were triggered. Although there did seem to be some new colored tape on the floor around Fitz’s lab space. And one of Fitz’s new DWARF prototypes was hovering about the lab on a trial patrol run.

"Why are you lot not working in the lab?" Hunter asked with an arched eyebrow.

One of the techs quickly pointed at another.  "Carver here accidentally jostled Dr. Fitz's head while walking past his bench carrying a tote. It barely touched him, but..."

Hunter had to hide a laugh behind his hand. Based on how Jemma had been acting since they'd gotten Fitz back from Maveth, something like that had to produce quite the fireworks display. It definitely explained the SOS he'd received.

"I take it you are all now well acquainted with Dr. Simmons now."  Bobbi asked with a smile.

They all nodded back, eyes almost comically wide.

“Alright. We’ve got this covered. Come back in maybe a half an hour ready to work.”

Once they left, Hunter turned to Bobbi peering in again trying to see if he could see the Dragon guarding her treasure. "Those kids need a break from each other, preferably before Simmons squirrels Fitz away somewhere we never find him again."

Bobbi smirked. "I don't know. I think we might have a fair idea where to find him hidden away." She remembered Fitz mentioning something vague about the cottage in Perthshire.

"True. But I’d prefer to not have him kidnapped by a crazy person twice in the same week."

"Yeah," Bobbi conceded and though it was meant as a joke, Jemma was clearly not okay and growing more protective of Fitz by the minute. It also occurred to her that no one had really sat her down one on one since the incident. "They both need someone to talk to that isn't the other.  Maybe she'd be okay with Lincoln helping to monitor Fitz while we do a movie night?"

* * *

 

Jemma nestled back into the couch, bottle of beer in hand, her toes tapping restlessly on the floor. Though she had agreed to the 'Girls Night,' she hated being away from Fitz for this long. Her worry gnawed at her despite the fact he was just down the hall with the guys, including Lincoln, a fully trained medical Doctor. She did feel a little bad; she may have scared him a bit when discussing how to monitor Fitz.

Bobbi had pointed out—at length—that she might need at least an evening off to decompress from the events of the last few days. Daisy had opted for one of those Action-Adventure Romance combo movies. They had run through pizza and popcorn watching the hero dash from one mindless explosion to the next. The hero was a nice piece of symmetrical eye candy but had very little substance.

This somehow managed to turn her thoughts to Will. Will was a guy not unlike the few guys she dated at the academy, impressive on paper and symmetrically and aesthetically pleasing, but a bit boring. She vaguely hated herself for even thinking so. He had been a kind man, sacrificing himself for her. It hadn’t escaped Jemma that everyone around her got hurt. She seemed to be the common variable to this godforsaken equation.

Bobbi and Daisy looked at each other, noticing Jemma’s attention hadn’t been focused on the screen in sometime.

Daisy stood up first, pausing the movie and hitting the lights.  “I think I need ice cream.  Either of you want anything?”

Bobbi nodded her head.

Jemma took a few seconds before shaking herself out of her stupor, plastering a broad smile on her face.  

“None for me, thanks.”

Daisy paused in the doorway, a little bit longer.  “Okay. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Are you alright in there?” Bobbi’s penetrating gaze falling on Jemma, and she felt as if Bobbi was trying to puzzle her out.

Jemma’s eyes met the floor under the weight of her stare. “Just stuck in my own head and feeling sorry for myself.”

“You are entitled to that, you know. You went through something no one on this planet has ever gone through.”

Eyes misting slightly, Jemma smiled. “Not the only one. There were others there. The human remains. And Will.”

“Yes. But you are the only one who lived through it and came back. And with that comes an incredible amount of baggage, I’m sure. But you aren’t processing it, you are just keeping it in and letting it explode at intervals. That isn’t healthy.”

With a flinch, Jemma’s posture grew rigid, hastily reassembling her walls. Bobbi could actually see her physically and mentally digging in.

"If not for you do it for Fitz," Bobbi adds softly. It was a low blow bringing Fitz into it, and she knew it, but the girl sitting before them was in desperate need of help.

"Jemma," Agent May spoke softly from the door, startling the young scientist with the use of her first name. "I know something of what you are feeling right now, that you are carrying a burden that is about to swallow you whole. Please don't make the same mistake I did and bury it.  Believe me when I say that, in the end keeping that darkness hidden only swallows you and those you care about along with it."

“You need some sort of out an outlet to relieve the tension before it can break you.”

Recovering from her minor shock, Jemma was now all bravado.  “Can you teach me to properly defend myself?  I am tired of being used to hurt those I care about.”

May nodded.  “Yes, but it will take some time.”

Bobbi chimed in, “And I can help too.”

“Agent Weaver has already made the executive decision to send the Playground a new Staff Psychologist.  We all have gone through a lot this past year.”

Smiling comfortingly at May, Bobbi was quite pleased.  Maybe Coulson did listen to her request after all.  “And given Dr. Garner’s unique situation, anyone who spoke to him after Jiaying’s attack might not have gotten the best advice.  It is probably worth seeing what a fresh perspective might have to offer, one which hasn’t been actively digging through each of their files.”

May’s own walls were up. Andrew was still a very raw situation for her, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to talk about it herself.  But she couldn’t argue with Weaver’s logic in this case.  She was nearly halfway out the door before turning back to confirm.  “The new doctor should be arriving within the half hour. I need to go meet him in the hangar bay.”

Daisy passed May on her way out, finally reappearing back at the door with a handful of pints and spoons in hand. Blinking, she took in the somber atmosphere. “Sorry, Hunter raided the freezer first so I needed to go on an ice cream rescue mission.”

Still a bit floored, Jemma slumped back into the couch feeling like a fraction of the weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Bobbi plopped next to her, extended a hand out to pat her shoulder. “It can and will get better. Talking to Fitz and working with May helped me after my—own incident. You just need to see what can work best for you. Though, I would suggest talking to Fitz; he's a pretty good listener.”

Jemma smiled shakily.  “That might be a bit…complicated.”

Bobbi scoffed.   "Life is complicated!  You asked me if the ride was worth it. With Hunter, I'm still on it.  

For me, it has been worth every one of the achingly slow climbs to the terrifying drops. You, Jemma, will never know unless you can get on and just talk to him.  And it does mean you will actually need to talk to him."

Jemma sighed heavily at the prospect.

"Jemma, you mean to tell me that you to up to Hydra, survived on a planet for six months, and came face to face with a death personified.  And you’re afraid to talk to Fitz!" Daisy said incredulously, coming to sit back down on the couch beside her.  “He would never hurt you.”

“I know,” she practically whispered.

"You shot Agent Sitwell in the chest on the off chance Fitz was being hurt.  I know for a fact that you are both hurting right now. So now, it is time to woman up and fix things for both of you.  I will also not complain if you would both stop scaring those poor techs you work with out of the lab.  They keep invading the common area and stealing my snacks.  I can't have that!"  Daisy murmured, under her breath.  “I need something for when I check the feeds.”

Jemma goggled at Daisy, not sure if she heard her correctly.  ‘What feeds?’

Bobbi snickered.  “The techs also keep running to Hunter for help.  And you know he is the biggest gossip.”

“Anyways!" Popping upon the container of chocolate chip cookie dough as she dropped her feet onto the coffee table, Daisy leered. "How could you kiss Fitz and not tell me!"

“What?”  Jemma half-shrieked, blushed furiously.  "I—"

Bobbi grinned manically, mentally doing a bit of math and trying to reconcile possible hints from Fitz’s behavior.  “And when exactly, pray tell, did this happen?”

"How did you know?" Jemma finally sputtered out.

"Hunter." Daisy glanced at her expectantly.

Suppressing a groan, Bobbi prayed to any deity that might listen Hunter hadn’t gotten Fitz drunk to get him to start talking.  That was definitely on Jemma’s lengthy list of Don’ts she had given to Lincoln.

Jemma's eyes were as wide as saucers.   "However, did he find out? I swear it feel like people are spying on us."

Daisy choked on a bit of cookie dough, trying to look innocent.  "Fitz is apparently very tired and cranky.  I can’t imagine why he hasn't been sleeping well...  Hunter was a little persistent in asking he was going to finally get around to kissing you.  I’m not even sure that Fitz realized he let it slip."

Bobbi was hard pressed to keep a bit of smirk masked.  It was clear from the hardness in Jemma's eyes that her ex-husband and current boyfriend was a dead man walking.  Jemma was not one to toil with, especially not right now when it came to Fitz.  Hunter deserved whatever Jemma might serve up.  Besides, she wanted the details just as badly.

"You know we’re not going to let this go until you tell us." Daisy crowed happily.

Jemma felt cornered, looking into their expectant faces. That kiss—two to be fair—had been all that she had ever wanted: tender and sweet, impulsive and filled with pure longing, and, if she was honest with herself, more than a little hot.  Then, it was all ripped away.  Life was lovely and bittersweet in one moment and enough guilt and self-loathing to bring her to her knees in the next.  She wasn't quite ready to share it with anyone else.

On the other hand, if she didn’t give them something she would be trapped avoiding their questions for the rest of the night, if not for far, far longer.

A soft knock at the door frame interrupted her thoughts.  Fitz stood  in the door, a bit pale and flushed. "Sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if I could see Jemma. My head's started to—"

Jemma leapt off the couch with a hurried goodbye.  With a cursory look at his pupils, she took Fitz by the arm and guided him towards med bay.   “Believe it or not, your timing is perfect,” she murmured to Fitz as they disappeared down the hall..

Daisy looked heartbroken for a moment, before grabbing her tablet intent of finding that footage if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

“We have arrived, Dr. Arnold.” The pilot headed back to the passenger cabin, her standard issue tactical gear boots squeaking across the cabin floor. “We have 48 hours until you are expected back for a check in.”

Dr. Arnold unbuckled the harness around his dark blue suit, and adjusted his heavy framed glasses. He picked up the dark tan briefcase and his overnight bag and headed towards the ramp. “Should not be a problem. Who is meeting me here?”

“Agent May, I believe.”

“Ah.” Maybe a slight problem: He knew Agent May only by her very formidable reputation.

Stepping carefully down the ramp, he was somewhat surprised to find a slight woman who looked surprisingly close to his own age. He smiled widely, teeth nearly gleaming between the fullness of his short but graying beard. “Agent May. Agent Weaver said you’d be expecting me.”

May blinked up at him for a moment, before gesturing for both he and pilot to follow. “We have rooms set up for you both in the common wing.”

The pilot took a half step closer to him as they wound around the brick halls.

“What time shall I be meeting my patients?”

“I’d imagine you could start meeting them after you check in with Director Coulson at 9 am tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

May halted suddenly outside of two doors.  “You’ll be staying in these two rooms.  The mess is just down the hall to your left.  I’ll pick you up from there in the morning to meet with Coulson.”

Arnold smiled, practically oozing warmth and charm.  “This will do nicely.  Thank you.”

The pilot moved towards her door, waiting until May’s footsteps could no longer be heard.  “Sooner, then?”

“I’m afraid so.”


	6. Chapter 6

_Undisclosed Location_

_22 December 2015_

* * *

Coulson fumed, pacing like a caged lion between the axe and fossilized hand mounted to the brick wall of his office.      

 

“She is right, you know,” May admonished.  “Fitz and Simmons have had a particularly rough patch of late.  And they have never been our strongest assets in the field to begin with.”

 

"We've all had our traumas the last few years, May.  Hydra is still out there. We don’t have the time to be taking a breather, because I can guarantee they are gathering strength, intelligence, resources.  Every moment we waste is another moment they grow stronger.  It’s another moment Malick isn't paying for what he did..."

 

May narrowed her eyes. "Did to who?" she questioned carefully.  "To your own agents that he just kidnapped and tortured?"  May did not dare utter the real reason she suspected was driving his thirst for revenge: Rosalind.  It would be dangerous if Coulson was still making this a very personal vendetta.  He was bad enough when members of the team, Daisy in particular, were harmed, but this was escalating very quickly.  It was one thing to go off the rails when he had temporarily given Mack command.  It was quite another to keep it, and bring the whole organization down with him.

 

Coulson stopped before his severed, transformed hand and grew quiet, which unfortunately was all the answer May needed.

 

“I’m going to work out, and then I’ll bring Dr. Arnold in to talk to you.  In the meantime, you need to calm down and figure out how you can use this asset to your advantage.  You may not have asked for him, but he could very well be helpful for the team and the individuals.”

* * *

With a smile wider than anyone’s should be at that ungodly hour of the morning, Dr. Arnold set down the cup of coffee on the counter.  He rifled through the cabinets, seeking out the standard comforts of home although real sugar and cream proved elusive.  This truly was the hazard of waking up so early in an unfamiliar place.  The fake stuff would do in a pinch, but he’d have to grin and bear the taste.

 

He’d avoided looking through the case files last night. Something about Weaver’s message made him wonder if the last counselor had left a bad taste.  It would probably, thankfully, require a very different approach.

 

He momentarily removed his glasses, rubbing his fingers across the bridge of his nose to ease a bit of the ache.  These glasses always pinched miserably with the least provocation.  Resettling them on his face as lightly as possible, he relished the brief moment before gravity would drag its weight back down.

 

Picking up the mug, he took a sip trying to relish the spill of warmth and not focus on the taste.  He would need all the caffeine he could get to operate at his best, in due deference to the time change.  And today would be so important after all.

 

Earlier, he’d wandered past the Playground’s extensive lab, looking to see if his patients would be up and about so early.  He didn’t relish his upcoming meeting with Director Coulson, so any advanced information he could possibly glean would prove invaluable.  Unfortunately, it seemed like he’d have to wing it.

 

“Fitz, what if we altered the button design to—“

 

The scientist’s head snapped up as Dr. Arnold entered the lab, his eyes darting across the room.

 

“Oh.”  Halting, the young woman went suddenly silent went suddenly silent on their work at hand.  Her eyes were dark, even haunted, behind her cursory smile.  “You must be…”

 

“Dr. Arnold,” he greeted, smiling sincerely as he proffered his hand to her.  “Agent Weaver sent me here to see what I could do to help.”  Mildly, he added, “She was concerned.  You must be the two scientists.  Agents Fitz and…Simmons, was it?”  He stifled a chuckle.  “You must forgive me.  With your impressive resume, I expected you to be quite a bit…taller.”

 

Simmons blinked for a moment, before extending her own hand.

 

Fitz followed suit, frowning only a moment as Dr. Arnold seemed to be watching him very closely.  “Agent Weaver sent you?  That was fast.  What field do you specialize in?”

 

“Psychology.” He blinked, looking back and forth between the two agents, noting Dr. Simmons’ eyes flit away. But Fitz looked a bit floored. “You weren’t informed, Agent Fitz?”

 

Completely contrite, Simmons lifted her eyes briefly to the ceiling before she turned to Fitz.  “I only heard from May last night.  I assumed she told you too.”

 

Fitz collapsed into the chair seeming to ignore their guest. “She thinks we are both damaged?”

 

“No," the Doctor said forcefully.  "She thinks you are both assets.  That you are worth every bit of protection Shield should be throwing at you, until you can plant your own feet solidly beneath you and run on your own.” He met Fitz’s blue eyes directly, his smile filled with strength and promise. “You both have experienced some serious trauma and are suffering from the after effects.  While that damage can't be undone, I can help you properly respond and even grow stronger due to the experiences.”  Turning to Agent Simmons, he continued.  “Like a fracture, with time and the proper conditions for heal and repair.  Yes, the break becomes scarred initially, but soon the bone will knit and grows stronger than the surrounding tissue.”

 

Taking a sip of the coffee with more than a hint of a grimace, he examined his two patients.  Fitz slumped down in the chair, resignedly.  He pressed his lips together slightly and his eyes focused towards the table as if at some invisible project that required continual improvement. Arnold could only assume that mean he was honestly considering the potential need.  But Agent Simmons stood tall, her eyes more than a bit belligerent.  He had seen this reticence before, having been in that same position himself what seemed like a lifetime ago now.

 

“Think of it this way: as Scientists, you could heal in your own time, on your own terms.  But out in the Field, where every second counts, you should be given every possible advantage.”

 

Dr. Arnold leaned back against the counter, studying the two as Fitz and Simmons held a whole silent conversation across the room, their eyes telegraphing their thoughts.  He hid a smile behind the coffee cup.  It seemed that their decade of collaborative work did have some benefits, if it resulted in that level of communication.

 

With a sigh, Simmons murmured.  “I suppose it is worth a try.”

 

“Not a rousing success, but we’ll take it.”

 

Fitz looked secretly pleased.  He lifted himself out of the seat and headed towards the counter, as Simmons opened up the cabinet and pulled out two tea bags.

 

“Well, that’s sneaky!”  Arnold skulked, stopping just shy of actually pouting.  “Where on earth were you hiding the tea?  I must have looked everywhere.”

 

Fitz smirked, tugging out his grumpy cat mug and a plain red mug from another section of the cabinets.  “If you want to keep something to yourself, sometimes you have to hide it.  Especially with as many people around as there are around the Playground.”

 

No one had noticed May silently enter.

 

“Dr. Arnold.  The Director is ready for you.”

* * *

Director Coulson hovered near the door when May quietly entered with Dr. Arnold.

 

Arnold took in the surprisingly large office, pausing briefly to note that large volume of items in glass cases throughout.  He tilted his head, already assessing Coulson.  “Director Coulson.  How…nice to finally meet you.”

 

“Dr. Arnold.”  Coulson pressed his lips together, as May moved to stand beside him.  “I take it you were sent here by Agent Weaver.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you are aware she didn’t get my clearance first?”

 

His expression tightened.  “I was under the impression you had given Agent Weaver broad authority to provide you with support staffing as needed.  Agent Weaver was deliberately evasive, but I understand your last psychologist left several cases mid-stream.”

 

Coulson’s brow furrowed, but was otherwise silent.

 

“Professionally, I’d like to re-start the evaluation process on my own.  I’m unclear on the circumstances surrounding the dismissal of your last psychologist, but I have a very different professional approach than most of my colleagues.  Most of the past evaluation work for S.H.I.E.L.D. was done on Index-related cases.  Shield is no longer in wash out mode, and our strategy needs to be more reliant on retention and protection of the current staff.”  His jaw clenched slightly before he continued.  “Furthermore, as S.H.I.E.L.D. is still externally considered a questionable organization by most countries, our staff doesn’t have the luxury to leave the base to get assistance.”

 

Arnold stopped briefly to gauge his audience.  Agent May seemed to be on board, but the Director was still, surprisingly reticent.  

 

“In essence, Director, I am here as the psychological welcome wagon.   Agent Weaver cited your two scientists in fairly dire need and her largest area of concern.  I’d like to focus more personal attention on them first.  

 

Eventually, I’d like to offer more open door services to all staff.  They may want to talk or vent.  They may want ways to help themselves.  They may need something outside of my expertise; where I would come to you to work on getting them that help.  That is why I am here.”

 

With a hard smile, Coulson commanded.  “You can stay, but I need Fitz and Simmons in field capable capacity in a week.”

 

Arnold gaped.  “Director, I have barely spoken more than a few sentences in an informal capacity.  I could hardly begin to assess their condition, assuming one or both would open up to me immediately.”

 

“Regardless,” Coulson pressed.  “Hydra is still on the loose.  We have a mission.”

 

His dark blue eyes turned to steel, his nostrils practically flaring.  “No, sir, you have a mission.  You have a full team.  You also have two agents who would have been benched for weeks if not months before the fall.”

 

May cleared her throat.  “We do understand that, Dr. Arnold.  But the situation now is…particularly dire.

 

Arnold clamped his eyes shut, and took a deep breath before continuing.  “With your permission, I’ll start with them immediately.”

 

Coulson stared him down for a few moments before nodding.

 

As if he took no notice of the force of the Director’s glare, Dr. Arnold walked toward the door, letting it fall closed behind him.

 

“I’m impressed.  He stood his ground very well with you.”

 

Coulson blinked, looking at her, incredulous.  “If he puts so much as one toe wrong, he will find himself out of here immediately.”

 

May smiled, as she opened the door to leave as well.  “I’ll be working with Daisy today on getting some sort of tracking into the ATCU.”

 

His face lightened.  “I appreciate it.”

 

After the door closed behind her, Coulson reached for the phone.  Billy promised to have a copy of Dr. Arnold’s personnel file on his desk first thing tomorrow.

* * *

Dr. Arnold’s pilot stalked down the hallway, periodically looking into open rooms and side hallways.  Her dark hair bounced behind her in a ponytail.

 

“Ah, Dr. Arnold.  I was just getting ready to head to the hangar bay.  Is there anything you’ll need?

 

One of the doctor’s lips curled up.  “More time,” he murmured.

 

“Hmm?”

 

He shook his head.  “Nothing.”

 

She tilted her head further, echoing his smile.

 

“Nothing I can’t handle, Agent Marquez.”

* * *

Simmons set up the laptop as Fitz continued to fiddle with the button to trigger cartridge release.  She threw on a headset before punching in the numbers.

 

Weaver flashed on screen. “Agent Simmons?  It is nice to hear from you again so soon.”

 

“Agent Weaver.  Why exactly have you sent Dr. Arnold here?”

 

She sighed.  “Jemma, I know it isn’t really ideal, but it will be very helpful for you both to talk through some of your issues.   I’d also like him to talk to Fitz, to ensure he is getting everything he needs to deal with the various traumatic events in the past year or two.”

 

Simmons lifted an eyebrow, unable to keep a niggling vein of criticism in check.  “You could have spoken to him when you arrived with Gonzales.”

 

“Not really.  You both were being—understandably--adversarial.  And then he made his decisions to leave.”

 

Jemma shifted uncomfortably.  Perhaps Agent Weaver might have been able to provide Fitz with better support than she could give to him while they worked slowly bridging their divided friendship.

 

“Truly, I understand your reticence to speak with someone.  After the fall, I lost so many students that day.  I tried to save as many as I could.  I hated myself for not being faster or stronger.”  A flinch shuttered her eyes.  “I felt each of those losses personally.  I met most of those parents.  I recruited most of those young men and women directly from Universities.   It broke me that I couldn’t physically do more.”

 

“You both literally went through hell, at least came out alive.  Most didn’t.  When I worked with Gonzales, Calderon, Hartley, and Morse, we all lived through that dark day in a very similar way.  We were kindred spirits in a sense, but it was a partnership of necessity, to ensure the safety of Shield.  But at the end of the day, it didn’t help me personally.  I carried a tremendous weight on my shoulders.”

 

“The best I can do for you is to offer you both whatever support you need.  This is less about your capability and more about penance.”

* * *

After Fitz and Simmons made some headway on the design modifications, they headed to the kitchen.  Jemma was sticking to Fitz as much as possible, as she had already been cornered by Daisy in the hallway once today.  She was playing the odds that neither Daisy nor Bobbi would broach the topic of the kiss with him standing right next to her.  They found Dr. Arnold waiting in the kitchen talking to Hunter.

 

“—I know that Agent Coulson is not particularly keen on my being here, so I wanted to at least make some big goodwill gesture.  I thought I might at least pay for pizzas and beer or something, but I’ve been in hiding since just after the fall.  This is the first trip I’ve been able to get out of the base.”

 

“Sure, mate,” Hunter nodded, as Arnold rifled through his billfold for an appropriate amount of cash.  “I’ll just go see if Bob or Mack are game for another food run this afternoon.”

 

Fitz raised his eyebrows.  “You’ve been in hiding?”

 

“I was already on Hydra’s radar before the fall.”  He smiled sadly.  “I just happened to be off the grid when the fall happened, and was lucky enough to be picked up before anyone spotted me.  The protection of the underground bunker is great, but artificial light is just not all it is cracked up to be.”

 

“Yeah,” Fitz muttered.

 

“It is just sad that the window here is the best we can do.”  He sighed.  “Still, it is better than nothing.”

 

Jemma felt a very strong pang of sympathy.  “Maybe, we could go up to the roof later.  The cloud cover is not supposed to be bad so we might be able to see some stars at least.”

* * *

Most of the base was settled down in the kitchen.  A few picked up their share of pizza and before heading back to their stations, because space was at a premium.  Bobbi, Hunter, and Mack were lounging on the couches with the Inhuman half of the squad, and most of the lab technicians were hogging the table spaces.

 

Dr. Arnold had even left a stack of informational packets and personality tests, when he had grabbed a slice of pizza earlier.  Those were mostly untouched in favor of chatter across all the departments.

 

Daisy snuck out with a second slice and the half full bottle she was working, heading over to the control room to monitor the feed for an hour or so.  She was nibbling on the edge, tugging at a particularly elastic bit of mozzarella, before she hit jackpot as she watched Fitz and Simmons heading up to the roof.

 

Jemma had been avoiding her all afternoon, literally using Fitz as a human shield to keep her questions at bay.  And now they were heading off on their own?   Maybe there would be something even more entertaining than the feed of the kiss(es!) that she may or may not have copied onto her tablet.

 

She smiled into a yawned, surprised at how tired she was feeling for the relatively early hour.

 

‘Oh, well.  I’ll turn in early after I’m done here,’ she thought, taking another swig of the beer.

* * *

“Truly, Agent Simmons, it is fascinating.  I don’t know that we have ever had the opportunity to work with the challenges of interplanetary travel before.  Surely, as a scientist, you can appreciate that novelty to the uninitiated.”

 

Her smile had a thread of steel as she tried to mask her discomfort.  “It isn't a pleasant tale.”

 

He paused at the top of the flight of stairs, his eyes focusing off in the distance.  “I wouldn't be here if it was.”

 

Simmons and Fitz looked at him a moment, before turning with a shrug and trudging ahead up the final flight of stairs.

 

The sound drew Arnold out of his own thoughts.  With a shake, he pressed onwards and followed the scientists out the door onto the rooftop. “You know, I didn’t read your files intentionally.  I didn’t want any preconceived notions, aside from what I can glean from knowing you both graduated from the academy as the the youngest recruits in history and knowing that you are both competently acting as Scientists and Field Agents.”

 

Fitz scoffed.  “What could that possibly tell you?”

 

“It that tells me you are clever.  You thrive on challenge.  You deal with failure by throwing yourself at the problem until it is solved.”

 

He stood slightly apart from them at the edge of the rooftop, giving them both a respectful distance to process what he was offering.  “Dr. Simmons, until you are ready to open up, I can only speculate what living on another world might have been like.  I can only theorize what types of challenges you might have faced and how it might have affected you.  It is my job to be here and listen to what you need.  To draw from my knowledge and experience, to help you get whatever you need to get you to a new normal that you can accept.  To help you conquer your fears and not let them rule your life.”

 

They all dropped into companionable silence, savoring the stars above them. The moment was special to each of them for very different reasons.

 

Simmons swallowed against the lump developing in her throat.  “It is always nice to see the stars.”

 

Smiling, Fitz murmured leaning slightly against the roof edge. “At least this particular view.”

 

She smiled at him the darkness of the hiding the blush flushing her cheeks. “Yes. Absolutely.”

 

He smiled back.

 

Jemma wanted to reach for him, take his hand, the only thing stopping her was the new doctor standing just a few feet away.

 

She had been about to respond when her world went sideways.  She watched in horror as Fitz’s eyes went from gazing upon her adoringly to glassy, his form crumpling under his own weight, and he collapsed to the ground.

 

A scream of horror was lodged in her throat as memories of the last few days overwhelmed her and froze her in place.

 

Arnold shouted, reaching his hand out blindly, the other grasping futilely for a side arm that was apparently not there. “What on earth are you doing?” he demanded, a figured dressed from head to toe in black emerging from the shadows.

 

The approaching threat was enough to shake her from her shock; she wouldn't let this happen, not again, not to Fitz. Leaning back, she reached for the prototype kit from her hiding place in her sock, her fingers barely brushing it before the figure fired again.

  
Jemma’s world went dark as she fell in a heap next to her partner, their hands mere inches from each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: This was a tremendously difficult chapter to write for a whole host of reasons. Major thanks for AGL03 for letting me bounce ideas off her, and to LettertoElise for the beta-bootcamp that has helped my writing emerge so much stronger. Without these two, my work would include long stretches of spaces and commas where my head kept hitting the keyboard repeatedly. I cannot say thank you enough!


	7. Chapter 7

_Undisclosed Location_

_22 December 2015_

 

May stretched as she walked down towards the kitchen.  There was nothing like physical activity to get her mental abilities racing.  It left her muscles achy, but her mind loose and limber until her body or her mission finally let her rest.

Earlier, she and Daisy had managed to brainstorm a few ideas to evaluate the ATCU but without an inside man or a much longer lasting version of Fitz’s latest drone, they seemed a bit stuck.    Bobbi and Hunter would not be able to get back in without identification.  As past ATCU targets and contacts, Mack, Daisy, Lincoln, and Joey were off the table.  It was remotely possible that she, Fitz, and Simmons might evade their radar, but it would be a while before the two scientists should both be back in the field.

She considered calling the various Agents Koenig to tap into their collective knowledge of the myriad of Shield’s surviving assets.  Perhaps there was some secret tool in the various vaults that could evade standard detection they could use to tag an employee.

May was a bit stunned at the site greeting her as she reached the kitchen.  It appeared the whole of the base was clustered in the kitchen and dining area.  Some heads slumped down onto the table, some heads were slumped down onto the table, others leaning into the support of neighboring shoulders.   But one thing was clear--no one was moving.

Reaching for the closest body, one of the lab technicians, May grabbed her wrist to confirm a pulse.  She breathed a sigh when she felt the slight but steady thrum beneath her fingertips.  If this girl was unconscious or asleep, it seemed reasonable that they all might be in the same situation. Her hand reached towards another tech to verify.

As the adrenaline started to hit, she took stock.  Panic would help no one, and there must be a reason that they all suddenly crashed at once.  She gathered her sleeve, pressing it to her mouth as an impromptu gas mask.  She hadn’t noted an inclination to be lightheaded or woozy, just the normal ache of her muscles.  

She surveys the entire room, and notices a few key individuals missing.  

Coulson.  Daisy.  Fitzsimmons.

She sprinted towards Coulson office.

“Coulson?” she shouted nearing the door.  The eerily quiet halls spurred on the inclination to panic, and she took a moment to check her breathing and bring it back under control.

He looked up in surprise where he had been bent over his desk, entirely focused on mission plans.  “May?  What's wrong?”

“Almost everyone is incapacitated in the kitchen.  Daisy, Fitz, and Simmons are missing.”

An angry sneer crossed Coulson face as they both hustled down the hall.  Before Maveth, there was one very dark responsible party to Fitz and Simmons both disappearing:  Ward.  But he had left Ward's corpse to rot in that other world.  That left Malick and the fragments of Hydra to do his bidding.  The Playground was supposed to be impenetrable.

“--start with the video control room,”  May murmured, interrupting his silent train of thought..  “Daisy likes to check up on the recruits from there.”

Coulson nearly winced before nodding.  He had been checking in on Daisy, although not nearly well enough it seemed.

“And if not, it will be useful to determine what happened.”

In less than a minute, they had broken through the control room door.  Coulson let out an audible sigh of relief.

* * *

 

Daisy was tipped back precariously in the rolling desk chair, balancing only because her boots were crossed and anchored under the edge of the station.  Her head lolled back against the seat as she snored lightly, one arm lightly gripping the armrest while the other feebly rested on the base of the chair beside her thigh.  A nearly empty bottle lay by the base of the chair on its side and an empty, greasy plate sat up on the console.

May lightly shook her arm.  “Come on, Daisy.  Wake up.”

Whether by miracle of Inhuman physiology or virtue of time passed, Daisy dragged her still sleep heavy eyes open one at a time.  “May?”  she blinked, self-consciously wiping at her mouth in case she  had managed to drool a bit.  “Coulson?  Sorry I must have nodded off without realizing the time.”

Coulson smiled, but his eyes were still hard.  “Do you remember when you grabbed the slice of pizza?”

Squinting at the litany of feeds, she confirmed the current time.  “Maybe an hour ago?  I didn’t really pay attention.”  

Still blinking, she didn’t miss the look that passed between May and Coulson.  Clearly, this was bigger than her nodding off in the control room. “Why?  What’s up?”

Coulson chimed in first.  “You aren’t the only one asleep.  Nearly everyone else was passed out in the kitchen area a few minutes ago.”  

May’s gaze was trained on the plate.  “Maybe some sort of sleeping aid on the pizza?  The drinks must have all been sealed.”

“Daisy, do you feel up to combing through the feeds?  Fitz and Simmons weren’t in the kitchen either.  And we need to know if anyone else managed to get inside the Playground.”

Daisy nodded, wiping her hand over her eyes as if to clear off the last vestiges of sleep.  “I could use some caffeine, but--”  She blinked.  “Wait.  Fitzsimmons?  I could swear…I saw them before I nodded off.  Let me try to pull it up.”

“We will work on the caffeine and get the others up to help.”

* * *

Mack nodded awake.  He frowned, squinting up at the clock.  He never took naps on principle.  Certainly not on a cramped couch.  And not at this early in the evening unless he intended to meet an early wake up call.

Stretching a surprisingly achy back and shoulders, his arm jostled Hunter’s shoulder, spilling the last dregs of beer from the bottle to a sticky puddle on the floor.  Hunter sputtered a bit before snuggling back against Bobbi’s shoulder.

Mack snickered at the sight, before glancing around the room.  Everyone else here in the kitchen was asleep, meaning there was actually a problem.  He didn’t have much of the free pizza and beer.  In retrospect, that seemed to be quite a fortunate move.

Mack shook Bobbi’s free shoulder.  “Bobbi.  C’mon, we’ve got a bit of a situation here.”

With only a few more light shoves, although, considering Mack’s strength, that was all relative, Bobbi finally uttered, “I’m up.  I’m up.”

Shuttering her eyes hard, she forced them open quickly and slammed them shut,forcing her eyes to adjust to the bright fluorescent light overhead.  She elbowed Hunter in the ribs to prod him along as well.  He groaned and flopped backwards into the couch.  “What’s going on?”                                                

Mack stood up, stalking around the room to see who all was there.  “Most of the Playground is in this room and asleep.  At least, I’m hoping they are all asleep.”  

Bobbi scanned the room, squinting.  “Who is missing?”

“Daisy.  Turbo.  Simmons.  May and the Director.”

Her brows furrowed in consideration, showing clearly that her mind was already moving, even if her eyes were slow to cooperate.  “What about the psychologist?”

Mack shook his head a moment before answering.  “He’s not here either.”

“Something was in the food?”

“I’m thinking so.”

“Time to wake the others, then.”

* * *

The lab technicians seated at the table were in various stages of waking, by the time Coulson strode in.  

“Good.  You are already awake.  Daisy is in the control room scouring the feeds.  Agent Morse, I need you to examine Daisy first and then everyone here for medical.  Once people are cleared, we need eyes to check the entire facility.  May headed to lab and then Fitz and Simmons’ rooms to locate them.”

Bobbi scowled slightly.  Surely the more pressing need was literally an entire room filled with people, not the single, very capable agent who admittedly was awake and already on task.  Torn between voicing her dissent on that plan and strongly considering coshing Coulson over the head with the tea kettle, Hunter chimed in for her.

“Wouldn’t it be better to clear the medical staff first?”

Coulson paused before nodding.  

Bobbi grinned her thanks at Hunter before turning to brief one of the other bio lab techs.

May walked alone concern clearly etched across her normally serene features.  She clutched one of the tablets in her her hand, swiping a finger to bring up a map of the base on its screen.  “There is no sign of Fitzsimmons or Dr. Arnold," she said grimly.  "His pilot left earlier today on another mission, but is set to return tomorrow evening.”

Despite the lingering effects of with whatever they had been dosed with, Mack and Hunter, along with the rest of the crew, circled around May and Coulson, awaiting further instructions.  Hunters eyes continually darted to the doors in case Fitzsimmons suddenly appeared.   
  
“Mack, I want the techs to get me information on what knocked you all out.  May, go relieve Daisy on the feeds.  I want her to organize the search of the entire Playground. Everyone else will report to Daisy for assignments.  I want to know who did this and why!"   
  
“What will you be doing?”   
  
“Calling the Koenigs.”

* * *

Daisy worked quickly sending out the various teams.   Hunter took a small crew down into the bunks and the archives while Bobbi and Mack would head to the gym and lab once everyone else cleared their medical exam.  Daisy was accompanied by Lincoln and Joey as she headed to the roof.  After hours of watching footage, she knew Fitzsimmons liked to camp out there from time to time.   
  
Based on the feeds she monitored, she suspected that Fitz had created some new tech to get away from the prying eyes he suddenly founded focused on him and Jemma.  Though that didn't explain why they had all fallen unconscious, not that Fitz and Simmons weren't capable of such a feat, but they would never deploy such tactics to sneak away.  Not when they could just as easily have waited for everyone but the night guard to actually be asleep.  The entire situation made her stomach turn and her hair stand on end.   
  
Joey interrupted her train of thought as they trudged up the backstairs.  “What exactly are we looking for here?”  He was glancing around nervously, still getting used to the Playground and the team.   
  
Lincoln was quick to answer.  “The two scientists, the ones Hydra took to the castle.”   
  
“No.  I mean, what do we think happened?  Why were we knocked out?  Why are they missing?  I thought you said we were safe here.”   
  
Daisy took a few calming breaths, the way May had taught her.  “We are hoping that they just needed a bit of alone time and stepped out.  But if we can't find them, we need to be looking for signs of a struggle.”  She said, swallowing the bile that rose at her last statement.   
  
Both grew silent.     
  
“I did manage to pull footage of them headed up here, but it looks like the roof camera may be on the fritz.  I wasn’t able to pull an image of them actually on the roof.”

Mentally crossing her fingers, Daisy crested the final stairway and pushed upon the door.  Lincoln and Joey were right on her heels as they fanned out onto the roof.  
  
"Jemma?  Fitz?  You guys up here?" She called, her stomach rolling when they were greeted with empty darkness.  Her eyes disappeared under her hair as she took a moment to collect herself.  Panic would not help Fitzsimmons right now.   
  
“Joey.  Find me anything you can.  Lincoln, we need to manually reset the camera.”   
  
With a somber silence, they complied.  Pulling out a flashlight and steeling herself, she pulled the door open again, searching for any scratches and dents that might indicate a struggle.   
  
“Daisy, I found the camera.  But it is high enough that I’ll need to give you a boost to check it out.”

“Coming.”  
  
Lincoln stood still, bracing her feet as she climbed up his back, immensely thankful she was as slight as she was.     
  
Daisy shifted slightly, frowning at the camera, before tapping at the headset in her ear.  “May.  Is there any change in the roof feed?”   
  
May’s voice cut through the light white noise.  “Not yet.”

“You can’t see me in front of the camera?”  
  
“No.”   
  
Daisy’s eyes darted around the top of the roof access doorway.  ”Lincoln, you think you could move over like two feet to the left?”   
  
With a grunt, he started shifting.

Balancing against the roof with one hand, she reached until the flat square box slid between her fingertips.  With a light tug it broke free.  “Okay.   Help me down.”  
  
When she was back on solid ground, she flipped the disk-like box over and over searching for some sort of switch only to find it completely smooth.  The external casing had been sealed shut.     
  
Frowning, Lincoln held out his hand.  She handed it over, watching as he took a few steps away and generated a ball of light in one of his hands, illuminating the darkness.  “How about now?”   
  
May’s voice cut back in over the line.  “Daisy, I don’t know what you did, but you both just appeared in the feed.”

“It must have been some sort of proximity tech.  I don’t know what we’ve been seeing, but it was definitely not a live feed.”  
  
“Any idea how long it might have been there?” May questioned.   
  
Daisy frowned.  “Not really.  It isn’t dusty or dirty, but it would have been exposed to the elements.  A few days at most, I guess.”   
  
“I’m going to update Coulson and have the teams check the other cameras while they are in their designated areas.”   
  
“Thanks, May.”  Daisy tapped off the headset, and moved to the edge of the roof to look over the side.  Definitely not a drop to take without some pretty heavy repelling gear handy.   
  
Joey suddenly shouted from the corner he was investigating.  “I think I found something.”   
  
She sprinted over to him.  He pointed towards the ground at two small plastic and metal casings.  "Oh no," Daisy whispered a small tremor shaking the roof.  The casings looking similar to those their ICERS dropped.

Joey tilted his head confused.  “You know what those are?”  
  
Daisy found herself struggling to find her voice.  "They look like cartridges for an ICER.  It means they must have been incapacitated, but--”  She turned to where Lincoln just joined them.     
  
“But?”   
  
Daisy blinked, sniffing the air, her panic starting to build even more.  “Tell me you can’t smell that?”   
  
“Smell what?”   
  
“Fuel?”

* * *

May found Coulson in the hangar, poring over the manual flight records.  “Did you hear back from Billy?”    
  
He grimaced.  “Unfortunately.  Dr. Arnold is in fact a long standing Agent, been with Shield for nearly 20 years.  He’s e-mailing the files to me now.”   
  
She looked at the console, the green light flashing an incoming signal for who knows how long.  “Were we expecting someone?”   
  
“Not that I know of.”   
  
May unholstered her side arm, watching as the bay opened automatically to a Shield hail.  Coulson stood at her side, hand ready to draw his own out.   
  
The plane completed its short taxi, the doors opening a few moments later.  “Hello!”  A disembodied male voice called out from the bowels of the plane.  “I’ll be down in a minute.”   
  
“Identify yourself.” Coulson barked now drawing his own weapon.   
  
“What?”   
  
A balding man appeared at the top of the ramp, hauling a heavy trunk beside him.  “I’m Doctor Arnold.  Agent Weaver sent me to--.”     
  
He dropped to floor at the top of the ramp before he could finish his thought.   
  
“May?”   
  
“Until you have the files, we can’t be sure which one the real one is.”   
  
Coulson nodded, and moved to the call button on the wall.  “I need medical to the hangar bay now.  Security, locate Dr. Arnold and bring him to holding immediately.”

* * *

Consciousness came gradually as Fitz started to slowly come around, the tell tale signs of an dendrotoxin exposure working their way from his system.  He was starting to get very tired of waking up with a pulsing headache, his eyes protesting even the dim light of wherever he was.  The floor and wall vibrated with the hum of the engine below him, his ears popping with the change in pressure.  He was on a plane.  He tamped down on the fear that welled. Barely a week had passed since the last time he was forced onto one.

Sitting up nearly too fast he found everything in his pockets were gone and his shoes were off.  That was to be expected, he thought bitterly, though the cot with a pillow and a blanket atop him was a complete surprise.  There was not much else in the little room, which wasn’t much smaller than the interrogation room on the bus. A small nightstand held two cups of some mystery liquid.

Two?  Jemma?  
  
He jolted up from the bed, squinting across the room.  He drew a sigh of relief, before hauling himself the rest of the way and striding over to her.   
  
She was here, tucked in and asleep in a cot across the room.  Eyes motionless, she remained locked in the stillest sleep.  He patted her shoulder, calling her name to no avail, not even a moan.  The consistent dosage level on an array of body weights, especially given the fast working stopping power, meant that a slighter person would get a higher relative dose.  He went to look at his watch, estimate how long he'd been out, only to find it missing.     
  
He just needed to wait.  He settled onto the floor next to her, much as he had in the med pod what seemed like a lifetime ago.  Taking comfort in the rise and fall of her chest, he tried to work out who had done this and how they been taken right under the noses of some of the world's most dangerous and skilled agents.

Meanwhile, he needed out figure out everything he could about who was holding them and where they were going.  The walls looked like an older standard Shield issue, but there was really no telling how many quinjets were co-opted by Hydra in the fall.   
  
Lifting the door handle, he could feel the standard, sealing lock.  Nothing he could do about that from this side of the door.  He lay down on the ground, trying to place the engine  and which direction the plane was travelling.  His encyclopedic knowledge of the fleet was basically gone, but it felt like this was a smaller version of the Bus.

He pulled himself back up, whirling around scanning for something, anything else to provide a clue.   The blankets and pillows, the cots appeared standard military issue. But without their equipment, it was nearly impossible to get any good readings on chemicals, pollen, and whatever else might allow them to narrow down the location.    
  
That left the mystery liquid. He leaned down to the mugs, waving his hand above to waft to his nose a hint of the scent.

* * *

Jemma finally succumbed to the tug of consciousness and the sharp sting of pain that centered just above the bridge of her nose.  It was a particularly cruel trick to have your own invention turned on you--twice.  The aftereffects felt just as unpleasant as she remembered them.

She cracked her eyes, wincing at the light and seeing Fitz working his way methodically around the room, looking for a way out.  He was so engrossed with his investigation he didn't notice the rustling of the fabric as she woke, affording her the moment to watch him unguarded.  Seeing him up and moving assuaged both her initial inclination to panic and concerns about any adverse reactions between the dendrotoxin and Fitz’s injuries.

His presence was a decided comfort, although time would only tell if someone was watching or listening in.  Although concerns in that respect could did not quite stifle the nearly magnetic pull of her eyes to his form when Fitz decided to examine the drinks they had left.

She allowed herself a slight smile before the guilt started to set in.  "Twice in one month must be some kind of Shield record with kidnapping."  

“At least this time we weren’t cuffed.”  Fitz quipped back a smile of his own playing on his lips.  “And it looks like they left something, although the jury is still out on whether that is actually in our best interest to drink.”

She pulled herself out of the bed to see if her nose had any more luck in placing the ingredients.

“They confiscated all of my equipment.  I can only assume they did the same for you.” he said gesturing to his stockinged feet.  

Jemma did a quick inventory, she had never carried as many tools at Fitz did.  But halted as she got her bearings, stunned for a moment.  Collecting herself, she mentally tapped her undercover time in Hydra in case someone was watching.  She did not want to telegraph her undiscovered hiding place, as she subtly shifted her weight to confirm the object was still there.  
  
She pressed her lips and blinked to mask whatever reactions she could.  “Yes.  They found everything.”   


* * *

Frowning, Fitz recognized the slight change in her voice, they way she shifted, and her eyes bore into his own.  He reached for her hand at the slightest sign of a tremor.  In some ways, he understood.  Once she was taken to Maveth, she must have worn whatever self-defensive means she had at hand as both armor and a security blanket.  

It grated that they had not accounted for a sneak attack possibility and improved means to hide each of their prototype Fitz Army Knives on themselves.  He grit his teeth, frustrated that he had failed her again.

A knock at the door heralded the first visitor, the pair wondering what kind of captor bothered to knock, as a woman with long dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail appeared behind the cell shielding.  Their captor seemed to deem them quite the flight risk for the shielding to be up in addition to the door.  

“Agent Fitz.  Agent Simmons.  If you are feeling any ill effects of the dendrotoxin, we’ve found that this type of tea can actually be quite helpful at taking the edge off.”

“Yes, let’s drink the tea given to us by the women who just shot us both,” Jemma snapped.

“With ICERs.” Fitz added.  

The woman's smile was pure steel and sent a chill up their spines.  “Make no mistake.  If my orders had been to shoot to kill, we would not currently be having this conversation.”

“Where are you taking us?” Fitz demanded his temper flaring.

“Somewhere safe.”

“We were safe back at the base.” Simmons countered.

Their captor sneered at the comment.  “Were you really?  I understood you managed to get yourselves kidnapped by Hydra not all that long ago.”  

Neither one answered, opting instead to stare back defiantly.  
  
“If we are going somewhere safe, then why are we are locked in?”

“With our belongings taken away.”  Fitz interjected.  “Really what threat do our shoes pose?”

At that, she chuckled. “The shoes proved to be a good call to retrieve.  That was quite a clever little device you made.  I have heard you both were incredibly resourceful and creative.  Neither I nor my employer wished to take any chances.”

"So we are prisoners again?  Whatever you want we won't help you," Fitz spat.

“I don’t expect you to understand the full scale of the current situation, just that it goes farther than even your brilliant minds can comprehend.  Nor am I at liberty to divulge that knowledge at present.  Just know that all this is as much for your protection as mine right now.”

“If we are here, then where is Doctor Arnold?”  Jemma questioned.  “He was with us just before you shot us with ICERs.”

“He’s fine.  For now anyways.”

They were left to silently puzzle out what that might mean had befallen their erstwhile co-worker.

“I suggest you not concern yourselves with him and instead settle in.  We have a few more hours before we land.”  
  
"Land where?" Fitz demanded.  "Where are you taking us?  Who are you working for?"

But the only response was the shielding fading back into the honeycombed wall, leaving them in silence once more.


	8. Chapter 8

_Undisclosed Location_

_22 December 2015, Part III_

* * *

The sound of boots pounded outside the door as Mack, Joey, Lincoln, Bobbi and Hunter were spooling up to head out in separate directions for clues. Mack and Bobbi barked orders as the agents past by, all of them waiting anxiously as Daisy scoured the feeds.

The pressure currently rested on Daisy's shoulders as she tried to puzzles together the events of the last few hours. Luckily, she had already created an algorithm to locate Fitz and Simmons in video feeds easily, her previous incentive for doing so a distant memory as she searched for any trace of who had taken her friends.

With quick adjustments to a few lines of code, the algorithm started to work its magic, speeding through images at frenetic pace. It would take few minute before they found anything, and in the meantime she needed something else to keep her mind at bay. Panicking would not help anyone right now.

The toolbox project for Coulson suddenly caught her eye. In the mad rush, she had almost forgotten about that particular puzzle. As it had the first time Shield attempted to gain access, the box refused to yield its secrets easily. The code didn’t make sense, at least not using all of the crypto software and logic that Shield had at hand.  It was also strange that the code was alphanumeric.   There were far fewer letters and more numbers than she would otherwise have expected.

It seemed like it was more of a program that had been corrupted and then chunks of the remnants were copied over. In all likelihood, she’d have to identify the program of the original code, locate or self-code the gaps, and then actually execute the finished program the locate the key.

* * *

Jemma glared at the closed door, pondering their next move. They had to get out of here before their captors got them to their destination. With a shudder, she violently forced back the memories of what had recently happened in England.  Their treatment in this case was far better, but it was not worth taking any chances.

Calling upon her undercover training, she scanned the edges of the ceiling and quickly found the locations of the two obvious cameras and one less obtrusive camera monitoring their activities. Satisfied there were not more, she pressed her fingers at the bridge of her nose and visibly winced. Next to her she felt Fitz tense, looking at her with concern, as Jemma groaned and dropped her head onto his shoulder.

She nudged him slightly with her head, trying to get him to understand to play along.

His hand instantly moved to cradle her neck. He was panicked and barely heard her whisper. “We need to move quickly, Fitz.”

His head jerked up. “Move where?” he breathed.

“Don’t look. I’m trying to avoid the cameras. You know the layouts of these planes as well as anyone. How can we get out of here?”

Fitz’s fingers absently smoothed over her hair. “There should be an electrical access panel, along the corridor wall. We find that and I might be able to short out the door lock. But to do that we’d need to open the wall panels, maybe two or three feet off the ground.”

Jemma’s eyes met his, as she still struggled to keep the signs of pain on her face for the camera. “We could maybe use the bed.”

Fitz tensed for the moment, unable to quite stifle a reaction to her eyes, those words. “As a shield?”

She smiled tensely.  “Basically.”

"Fitz, it is the only way...we need to get out of here before they take us..." her voice fading and he picked up on the waiver in her voice. Malick hadn't touched them until they'd gotten to the Hydra Camp, they had been merely tied up on the plane.

He drew a breath to steel himself, before looking over towards the most obvious overhead camera.  Waving his free arm a bit overzealously to quietly attract the captor’s attention, he looked mournfully up at the camera.

"Could you dim the lights?" he begged. "The toxin is hitting her system a bit harder due to her previous injuries.”

As he spoke, Jemma buried her face into his shirt and hid her face, grabbing his arm.  She had to physically fight to keep her eyebrows from lifting in surprise, as her thumbs rubbed along the inside of his bicep.  He must have been on some sort of workout regimen with Hunter or Bobbi.   The difference was not appreciably different in a hug, but she was definitely appreciating it now.

She brushed her nose at the cloth covering his clavicle, relishing the slight shiver of his hands against the nape of her neck.  Sighing, she savored the safety and comfort of his arms before the nagging voice of her conscience chimed in.  She was not supposed to be enjoying this.

But at least they’d be working together again.  She would take any opportunity for them to slip back into their old routine and solve a problem together.  It might be too much to expect anything else at this point.

She hoped the extra cover of low light would hide both evidence of their subterfuge and the feelings she was struggling to hide with Fitz so near.

* * *

“—said he couldn’t locate the original file.”

“Then where is Agent Weaver?  Shouldn’t she have something on file?”

The thread of consciousness remained elusive, but the light already stung his eyes.  His attempt to move his hand for the block was met with resistance.

“Wha--?” He could not even move his shoulders.  “What the hell is going on here?”

“We have the exact same question,” Agent May growled from her seat beside him.  Her arms tensed as the gripped the metal bar around the stretcher.  “Why don’t you tell us exactly what you are doing here?”

The elder man practically squirmed beneath his restraints as the surge of adrenaline demanded a quick decision on the fight or flight conundrum.  His heart raced, as he looked desperately to Coulson for help.

“It will be easier—for all of us—if you answer her questions.”  Coulson frowned.  “Believe me, she's the nice one.  I could send for Agent Morse if you’d like this interrogation to become a bit more difficult.  For you."

He stared back at the Director in disbelief.  “I’m doing a favor for Agent Weaver.  She wanted a psychological consult, particularly for Agents Fitz and Simmons.  My notes and the formal request are in my bag.”

Agent May set the bag upon the stretch and released the arm bands.  “Get them out.”

He grumbled, dutifully digging through the bag and handed over the formal file.  "You can be sure Agent Weaver will hear of this," he snapped, scribbling the words “unresolved anger issues” into his folio as the two agents pored over the request paperwork.

"She'll be hearing about it from me first, when I ask how two "Doctor Arnolds” managed to arrive here and how Agents Fitz and Simmons are now missing."

Dr. Arnold blinked.  That did put a bit of a different spin on the situation, although the shoot first policy had some rather disturbing implications.

A woman rushed in, short locks bouncing.  “Coulson.  I think I found something.”

“Their location.”

“No.”  She grimaced.  “Not yet anyways.  That algorithm is still running.  The other project you asked me to work on.”

Agent May looked between Coulson and the young woman.  “What other project, Daisy?”

Coulson was silent and turned to Daisy.  There was a chance she had learned something that would help to get Fitz and Simmons back, or least leverage additional resources to do so.  “May, would you escort “Dr. Arnold” to his quarters until Agent Weaver can resolve our imposter issue?”

She narrowed her eyes, before nodding and slipping her fingers around the doctor’s fairly skinny arm.

“Alright, Daisy.  What did you find?”

* * *

Arnold looked at the camera from where he had been cuffed to the co-pilot seat. His eyebrows skyrocketed into his hairline. He heard a great many things about this pair in preparation for his mission, but never that they were that close. As a matter of fact, the files really only mentioned them both by surname, so there was never a clear indication that Agent Simmons was in fact female. It was irrelevant to the quality of her work and her partnership with Agent Fitz.

“Let me at least dim the lights, Marquez.” He requested, his own eyes pleading, almost mirroring those of the captives. “There is no sense making them suffer any more than they already have.”

Marquez studied him severely with an annoyed huff. “Then you won’t fight me to go back there anymore? We can have a nice quiet flight back to base?”

He lifted his cuffed hand in gesture. “You have made sure that isn’t an option. I could make them another batch of tea, but they’ve already made clear they don’t trust you or anything you offer them.” He frowned back at the screen. “And I’m not really sure if they even would trust me at this point.”

She sighed still debating granting the small request.

“Think of it this way: If they are happy and quiet, I will be happy and quiet. Won’t that make your job easier?”

* * *

Fitz expelled the breath he didn’t know he was holding as the lights were dimmed without comment from their captor. "Thank you," he called, more out of habit than anything. It was frankly lucky that they bought that ploy.

'Now Simmons and I just needed to break apart the wall, find an access point, figure out how he could see well enough in the low light to quietly crack open the door, locate their belongings, overpower their captor, potentially release the captive Dr. Arnold, contact the Playground, and safely return home, all to be carried out in the span of a (hopeful) few hours. Piece of cake,' he thought bitterly as he savored the last few moments of Jemma snuggled into his arms.

He was surprised as Jemma drew impossibly closer him, her breath tickling his ear. She spoke as softly as she could manage.  “Which bed?”

He blinked, at least momentarily happy that this would be all business.  Her proximity was already setting him off balance and he was very quickly forgetting that she would need time and space to recover from her loss.  He nodded to the wall closest to the door, pulling away from her to walk towards the bed.

Only a step or two behind him, she sat down on the bed, looking up at him expectantly.

“You lay down and get situated.”  He turned around, looking for any possible item that could be used to lever open the panels.

Dumping the contents of one of the metal mugs into the other and the rest onto the floor, he brought it over to the bed and sat beside her.  She had tucked her legs beneath the cover but still sat up, waiting for him.  She accepted the empty mug from him and pretended to drink in case they were still being watched closely.  She patted the bed beside her, subtly reminding him they would need to be close and speaking quietly to avoid alerting their captor.

He sat down, feeling the compulsion to start babbling.  “In principle, it should be possible to get through the wall.  We reinforced the Bus’s walls, but this is a much smaller flight model and probably didn’t see nearly the same level of rotation.”

Weighing the cup in her hands, she questioned, “Do you think we’ll even be able to get the lip of the mug under the panel?”

“I don’t know.  If we do manage to get one panel off, we might be able to use it to open another.”

Jemma sighed and lay down on the bed, turning immediately onto her side.  She placed the mug beside her head and started knocking lightly on the panels hoping to detect a hollow sound.  Cringing as the sound echoed a bit, she stopped and groaned.  “Try to make some noise.”

Fitz’s eyes widened theatrically.  Perhaps if he was busy on the other half of the room, it would distract the captor.  “How can I help you, Jemma?”

“Is there something smaller I can use to cover my eyes?”

Fitz made an exaggerated show of looking throughout the room for any possible, elusive object.  He heard her attempt to pull the panel open with a grunt, but it was clear even in this darkness that she would not get enough force on her own, especially from that angle.  She fell back on the bed, her arm up over her eyes.  She was either gathering the strength to try again or was trying to figure out how to approach the problem another way, even with their very limited resources.  Unfortunately (for him), there was really only one obvious solution.

He meandered back over to the bed and asked, “Move over?”

With a nod, she rolled back onto her side.  He slid in beside her, propping his head up on the pillow to see the panel.  Jemma settled back against his chest, moving the mug back into place.   He slid his hands along her arms and he felt her breath quicken a shiver run up her spine at the action. "Together.  On three," he whispered in her ear.  His hand laced with her fingers as he took hold of the mug as well.

“One.”

“Two.”

* * *

Marquez massaged the bridge of her nose.  As a teenager, she had done her own share of babysitting, but she was definitely not getting paid enough for it now.  He was the one who decided to go off book, forgetting the very real danger of being out in the open.  He was the one who insisted on bringing the scientists back with them.   At least they decided to settle down for a short while.  She could finally relax when he was back under lock and key in the base.

“I want to tell them,” he grumbled.  “I don’t know why I thought this would be easier.”

She rolled her eyes.  “You know that isn’t an option.  Even if so much of it wasn’t classified, you have already endangered them by bringing them into this.  Do you really want to risk your family’s safety after protecting them all these years?"

“Has keeping silent really helped them all that much?” The Doctor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.  “They are more at risk now than they ever were.  The only difference is that they don’t know the danger is there.  They can’t protect themselves.”

"My priority has and always will be you, Doctor.  Frankly, I don't care who dies as long as you are alive," she hissed. "Remember that your family means absolutely nothing to me.  They are outside of the scope of my mission and my protection.  However, if you continue with this reckless behavior it will be one of them that suffer the consequences."

His eyes tensed.  “Then I need to talk to him as soon as possible.  He can give the clearance.  Hell, he can even tell them.  But they need to know.  It isn’t fair for them to be at risk and be so without protection.”

Marquez rolled her eyes.  She had heard this whole speech before, and the only thing that had changed was the location.  Shifting her focus back to the console, she was fairly surprised to see an unusual blip.   She blinked, watching the as the object headed towards their direction.  It was slow not like a missile, but definitely airborne.  She gazed at the Doctor’s side of the plane, hoping to make visual contact.

She did not expect the pin prick of pain in her upper arm, nor for her head to slump against the console as the plane lurched forward slightly.

* * *

Jemma withdrew the tiny hypodermic needle of dendrotoxin, immensely gratified to have literally given their captor a dose of her own medicine.

“Oh?”  Dr. Arnold reached his arm out after the pilot’s head landed against the console with a thunk, only to be thwarted by the handcuff that chained him to the co-pilot seat.  Gritting his teeth, he was unsuccessful at stifling a groan. “Marquez?”

Jemma frowned, somewhat shocked and dismayed that Dr. Arnold not only knew the captors name but also went unflinchingly to her aid.  Biting her lip, she set to re-sealing the plastic vial around the tiny needle.  The kit was handy except when physically removed from one’s person, but the need for sharps disposal was still a hurdle to be overcome.

“Was she a friend of yours, Dr. Arnold?”

“A long time colleague,” he confirmed with an arched brow, nodding to his cuffed wrist.  “We had a decided disagreement on how to handle this particular mission.  While I appreciate the sentiment—and the irony--of subduing Marquez, I am a bit concerned about flying.  More importantly, how are we supposed to land the plane?  I’ve acted as co-pilot from time to time, but I’ve never had to land on my own.”

Fitz responded before she could.  “This model of quinjet was equipped with an emergency landing failsafe.  If both pilot and co-pilot remove hands from the controls, the plane goes into a “soft-landing” mode, and the turbines exert addition upward force to slow any level of fall.  Considering what cargo these planes could carry, an airborne missile in free fall could be outright catastrophic.”

Dr. Arnold smiled wryly.  “I’m sure the accountants loved the insurance savings as well.”

Fitz smirked, as he worked to remove Marquez’s hands from the controls.

“How did you come by this plane, Dr. Arnold?”  Jemma observed him carefully.  His association with someone who would kidnap them both with no provocation made him all the more suspicious in her book.  “We’ve been with the Director for quite some time, and most of the fleet was lost in the Hydra takeover.”

His eyes tensed, deepening the lines around his eyes.  “I’ve been stationed at one of the more remote Shield facilities.  I’m not sure if you were aware, but not all of them ever were on the formal maps.”

Fitz nodded.  Even after all this time, he was still so willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

She had more cause for distrust and more reason to keep them both safe.  “Yet your mission was to bring us with you?”

Dr. Arnold flinched.  It was slight and she very nearly missed the subtle tell.  But her time in Hydra was hard won, and she was far more adept at reading people than she had been.  Luckily, his eyes were so expressive.

“Were you planning to subdue us as well?  Carry us off to lord only knows where--”

“Simmons?”

“—for whatever nefarious purpose.  I’m sure Agent Weaver did not intend for you to physically remove us—“

“Jemma, I need some help.”

“Where?”  Fitz was wedged in between the seat trying to leverage Marquez out of the chair, and very little room remained.

“If you could help with her legs, I think we could maneuver her out of the cockpit.”

With a bit of creative leverage, they managed to get her to clear the seat and headed out into the plane cabin.

Turned as much as the restraint and his free hand on the controls would allow, Dr. Arnold shouted, “If you don’t mind, could you strap her into one of the jump seats?  I may not have agreed with her approach, but I’d rather not see her end up with a concussion or worse.”

Jemma sighed.  The turbulence surely would be nasty at best, and she’d inevitably have to deal with Marquez as a patient.  The decision was clearly practical, but she did not relish not having eyes on the pilot while they worked to safely land the plane.  They both moved quickly to strap her in and move the conversation back into the cockpit.  She mentally gathered her thoughts on how to best proceed, as Dr. Arnold clearly knew more than he was saying.

She followed Fitz back into the cockpit.

* * *

“Now,” Fitz prodded as the forward motion lagged and the engines vibrated more forcefully beneath their feet, “you can answer her question.”

Dr. Arnold fixed him with a stare.  “I intended to appeal to your sensibilities.  Your safety has been a tremendous issue of late.  Very few Shield Agents endured what you have and continued to be productive agents after that fact.  Furthermore, much of your role could be performed remotely.  The Director has continued to lean on you both in spite of the fact that you are very much entitled time to heal both physically and mentally.”

Fitz watched Jemma tense up from the corner of eye.  Certain that she agreed with his diagnosis on the time for healing, he was unsure why she seemed to be quite so defensive in this case.  He scratched his temple.  “Why did the pilot think it was necessary to kidnap us?”

“Actually, your Director forced the faster timetable.  He was demanding you be back in the field within a few days.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Jemma hedged, “He is the Director.  We do have an obligation to abide by his orders.”

“Unless Hydra has finished with you, you will be safer at the secret base.”  His head tilted, watching her with consideration.  “Did they get everything they wanted?”

“Clearly not.”  Fitz murmured, leaning back in the pilot’s seat.

“Then you can see my point.”   Looking back and forth between Fitz and Simmons, he smiled slightly.  “I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but it is my job to do what I can to make sure you are safe.”

"Why are you in charge of making sure we are safe?" Jemma pressed.

Dr. Arnold’s smile faded.  “I’m not sure I’m at liberty to say.”

* * *

Coulson rushed behind Daisy to the control room.  No sooner had they started to talk about the complications on the encryption than her facial recognition program alerted her to results.  Finding any hint of Fitz and Simmons took immediate priority.

They confirmed on the roof access feed that Fitz and Simmons had headed up to the roof with the other Dr. Arnold and had not come back down.  But the roof feed itself seemed to have been damaged beyond repair.  She might be able to salvage a few frames for some hint of direction, but it was not terribly encouraging.

“Alright.  I could use some good news.  What did you find on that file?”

“Well, the encryption took some work.  Mentally.  Because, while it is definitely password locked, it was not matching any of the encryption styles we have on record.  So, I started to look closer at the encryption file itself, and realized something looked familiar.  I was seeing how colors were referenced in graphics cards with a single letter in between.  I started to cross reference old computer programs to see if this matched something that was out there.”

“And?”  Coulson prompted.

“And it did.  I had to do a bit extra to send this code into the existing program.  But it turns out, this wasn’t the lock, it was actually the solution to the problem.”

“So you can open it?”

Daisy smiled.  “It is already open.  I just got you first before I opened the file.”

Coulson’s smile was more genuine.  “Open it.”

Daisy extracted the compressed file and a series of memos and news clippings spilled across the screen.  The material looked very time consuming to plow through.  Until finally, one clear picture surfaced.

Daisy gaped.  “Coulson, is that…?”

“Son of a—“

* * *

 

The chain was cutting into his wrist.  Marquez was definitely going to get a piece of his mind once she was awake.  Preferably once they were all safely on the base.

The Commander would surely see reason and accommodate the two extra bunks for the two Scientists, especially when it was clear they were two of Shield’s brightest minds.  The gear they had was aged anyways.  If Agents Fitz and Simmons felt so inclined, they’d probably be whipped into shape in a hurry.  And they’d probably feel more inclined once the Commander gave him the clearance he’d already requested.

“We should to try to contact the Playground.  Let them know we are alright.”  Agent Fitz whispered to Agent Simmons.

He bit his lip to suppress the urge to shout aloud, so frankly terrified for them both.  It was critical that they both fully understood the situation before they were returned to their base.  The world had changed drastically since the protection agreement was put into place, and now only one man had the power to change the terms of the agreement.  “It might be safer to try to reach out to your colleagues from our base.  At this point, we are only a half an hour or so out.  We are also starting to run low on fuel, so we need to land and re-fuel if nothing else.”

He watched as the two young agents looked at each other, having a whole conversation without so much as a word.

Smiling, he added, “Plus it might be nice to have a conscious pilot.”

Simmons frowned, but pragmatically conceded.  “Alright.  But as soon as we land, we get a message to the Director.”

He nodded, looking down at the console.  It wasn’t really something he could guarantee, but he would certainly do everything possible to make that happen.  “I think we need to radio ahead to get them to open the hangar bay.”

He searched for the appropriate button to open the communications line.

“Agent Marquez, what is your position?”

“She is rather unfortunately indisposed.”

That response was greeted with silence, and then a rather unpleasant thudding noise.  A glance towards Agent Fitz, who was examining the roof of the plane, told him that noise had come from the plane, not the other end of the line.

“You are not supposed to be—“

The sound cut out as the plane lurched beneath their feet.  Agent Simmons grabbed hold of the bars outside the cockpit, pulling herself over to strap into one of the jump seats.

Agent Fitz barked.  “Pull your hands off the controls.  See if we can do that auto-reset.”

Throwing his hands back, he checked the tightness on his seat belt, a task made awkward by the handcuffs still anchoring him to the co-pilot seat.  Looking first to Agent Fitz and then back to Agent Simmons, he expelled a breath of relief to confirm both were safely secured for whatever landing they were due to make.

Finally, the engines kicked in with upward thrust, although not nearly as much as they had during their earlier test.

The Doctor braced as gravity made the outcome inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated! I can't tell you how much I appreciate the number of you who have taken the time to read so far. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience as this posting has taken a bit longer than usual. Real life will intervene again in the next 2-3 weeks, but then I should be able to go back to a more normal schedule.


	9. Chapter 9

_ Undisclosed Location _

_ 22 December 2015, Part IV _

* * *

 

Jemma coughed as a tunnel of smoke poured through the secondary cabin.  Everything ached, particularly where the straps had cut into her hips, chest, and shoulders.  But it was the dull ache of rising bruises and not the sharp, relentless sting of broken bones.  Wincing, she unlatched the restraints and eased herself to her feet, covering her mouth with her sleeve to keep from inhaling the somewhat dissipated smoke.

She limped over to the jump seat where the still unconscious Agent Marquez was strapped in, grasping her wrist to confirm a light but steady pulse.

“Fitz?”  She shouted, voice muffled by the heavy sweater.  Her free arm waved in a futile attempt to dissipate the smoke.  “Fitz, answer me please?”

A hacking cough was her only reply.  Decision made, Jemma popped open the airlock to vent the smoke outside.  She grabbed the first aid kit from the wall and with her elbow up over her nose and eyes as a shield and mask, pressed her way back towards to the nose of the plane. 

“Fitz.”

“I’m alright, Jemma,” Fitz sputtered.  The heavy smoke caused his eyes to water and his lungs to burn. Kidnapped and in a plane crash in the same day, he thought, once again wondering just what he's done to upset the cosmos so much. “But this smoke is awful. Are you okay?"

“I am. I just opened the airlock to try to vent it out. And yes a few bumps and bruises to add to the collection but overall I'm okay," she assured, running her hands over him quickly looking for blood.

"Are any of the electronics working? Anything that could help clear the cabin?” She asked. 

“Not anything I’d want to try until I do a full run down of the electronics.” He responded wiping his eyes to get a better look around. 

“We need to get Dr. Arnold in the back of the plane with Dr. Marquez.” Jemma said. Dr. Arnold and Marquez may have kidnapped them, but she and Fitz could never let them to die of smoke inhalation. “Does he still have handcuffs on?” Fitz questioned, looking for something that could pick the lock.

The smoke had obscured his view of the unconscious Doctor, but now Fitz’s stomach nearly revolted at the sight. "Oh, good lord! His shoulder is dislocated.”

Jemma pressed by him, confirming Fitz’s diagnosis with a single glance, reaching urgently for a pulse point to confirm his vitals. "We need the handcuff off now,” she urged.  "He must have fainted from the pain.”

Fitz looked decidedly green, as he lifted himself out of the pilot’s seat. 

Her smile was grim but determined.  “At least it won’t hurt him when I set it properly.  Probably."

* * *

His shoulder back in place, Dr. Arnold leaned back into the seat with a whimper.  His forearm hung uselessly at his side in a surprisingly effective sling fashioned from of one of the emergency gear packs.

The smoke was largely cleared from the cabin, thanks, in large part, to a hasty decision to lower the ramp.

Jemma handed him a set of pain relief capsules from the med kit, while Fitz cracked open a chemical ice pack. 

Poor Fitz’s stomach protested a lack of recent attention, as he plastered the now frigid pack to his shoulder. 

Arnold kept his eyes closed, focusing down the pain as best he was able.  The tension around his eyes faded slightly as the ice pack started to help dull the ache.  “There should be some cupcakes in the little kitchenette on board.” 

She stifled a smile.  She didn’t need to see Fitz’s face to know he was pleased with this response.  But they could all do with something a bit more healthful, especially if they’d be stranded here for some time.

“I brought them with me to help persuade you to my cause.” He knew the instant the words left his mouth that it had been the wrong thing to say. A sharp intake of breath from the pair hailed a chill seemed to permeate the cabin.

Her smile darkened.  “You really think we're just going to let you poison us with cupcakes! 

“You can’t really be serious?”  Aghast, Dr. Arnold grimaced as he tried to turn around in his seat to see both of the younger agents.  “Why on earth would you think I’d do that to either of you?”

“Why?  You helped kidnapped us!  You’ve just demonstrated that we can’t trust you either.”  Fitz bellowed as he gestured to the smoldering panels.  “It couldn’t possibly be coincidence that opening the communications line forced the plane down. Conveniently before we got to the "base" you promised we could reach out to our people?”

“Even if you still think I’d want to put your safety at risk, do you think I wanted this dislocated shoulder?” Arnold's own temper flared.  Their files had spoken of a stubborn streak but, just as with Agent Fitz’s relationship with Agent Simmons, it had been woefully understated.

“You certainly didn’t stop Agent Marquez from bringing us down.”  Jemma railed.  “You just stood there and watched.” 

“I am a scientist who has hardly spent any time in the field. I could count my entire outside missions on one hand. Do you really think I could stop or take on a trained handler and specialist nearly half my age? Unarmed?” He groaned, slumping back in his seat and grumbling, “for God’s sake. I thought you two were geniuses.”

Jemma frowned, allowing the last comment to roll off her back. He was in pain and had just survived plane crash. Yet, something was decidedly off about this whole situation, she just couldn't place her finger on it. For now Dr. Arnold was first and foremost a patient. He had a good deal to answer for, but now was not the time. The pain and meds she had given him would keep him from going too far away should he even attempt to move. Besides, Fitz would start to be a bear to work with soon if he didn’t get food in his system. Not to mention she was starting to feel lightheaded unsure of just how much time had passed since they had properly eaten.

She lay her palm against Fitz’s shoulder. “Let’s go and see what we can rummage from the kitchenette.”

* * *

Fitz and Jemma wound their way back to the kitchenette, which, inconveniently, was back where they were held previously.  Fitz sighed.  Had he known the way things would turn out, he would have insisted they sneak into it first and scavenge before trying to take over the plane.  Although…perhaps that might have made the landing a bit messier.

“Do you think we’ll be safe inside here or should we be looking for some sort of alternate shelter?”

“I’d need to check the electrical panel,” Fitz hedged, opening up the now darkened mini-fridge.

All usable power was being re-routed to the more mission critical systems.  Normally that would include emergency requests, but Fitz had a sneaking suspicion that the sound he heard earlier was related to the communications network.  “I think it would be best to initiate the GPS signal to the Playground.  There is no telling if Arnold’s people actually got a fix on us before we lost contact--assuming they actually can be trusted.”

Jemma brushed past him, crouching down to let all the available light to pass to take stock of the supplies.  She quickly pulled out the small container of cupcakes and some peanut butter crackers.

After Jemma handed him a bottle of water and a sleeve of the crackers, Fitz reached into his pocket for the watch and emergency kit he'd liberated from Marquez's pocket as they'd moved her to the jump seat. Making a mental note to include some sort of smaller light source in the next version, he settled against the wall nearest to the emergency light and set to getting the signal in order. He pulled all the cartridges out and slid the miniature screwdriver back into the kit base to depress the small button that would activate the emergency distress call.

“There we go.” He felt a visceral thrill of relief as the signal light activated.  “All set.”

Fitz cracked open the bottle of water and took a swig before replacing the cartridges into the kit.

Jemma slid down the wall to sit beside him, her shoulder pressed into his in a small gesture or seeking and offering comfort. “You still want to check the panel outside don't you,” she asked, reading the ingredients of the unfamiliar brand of health food bar she had found in one of the cabinets.

He nodded taking another drink of the water. “I don't know the range on the signal in the kit yet, and the sooner we can get help the sooner we can contact Coulson and the others."

She didn't like it but knew it was necessary to divide and conquer their problems right now.  “While you do that I’ll get Dr. Arnold stabilized and ensure Agent Marquez isn't suffering any ill effects of the toxin...we may need to adjust the dosage.”

Fitz nodded again, fascinated by the light and shadow cast on Jemma’s face by the emergency light. “If the damage isn’t too bad I’ll see if it is even possible to bring some of the non essential systems back online, maybe enough to get the kettle going and a proper cup of tea.”

That brought a smile to her face and she rested her head against his shoulder. “That would be lovely," she whispered softly, thankful he was there with her.  “Tea is one of the few things they have properly stocked.”

“I wonder where we actually are right now,” Jemma mused, trying to quash growing feelings of anxiety.  “I’d feel far more comfortable heading outside if I knew what predators or locals to expect and what sort of food might be available to gather.  Who knows if we even managed to land near civilization?”

Fitz smiled, glad to see Jemma reverting back to her oldest habits.  Preparation would be their best defense against whatever they might encounter during the hopefully brief duration outside the plane, and she always excelled in that arena.  “I’ll check the inside electrical panel first, and see if we can get enough power for visibility inside here at least.”

She reached for his hand, linking her fingers around his and smiling up into his eyes.

Swallowing nervously at the lump in his throat, he fought feeling like the nervous boy he had been when they met.  The decade had changed them, tempering their brilliance with wisdom and experience, with tragedy and trauma.  For all the harshness they had endured, they had both shed from their respective chrysalis with sheer determination, to further the cause of protecting the world.  Jemma, in particular, still had her scars to heal, but the experience only left her lovelier to his eyes. 

When she focused her warmth on him, the force was almost unbearable.  The boy he once was would never have thought to hope for it.

* * *

She gazed into Fitz’s eyes, ever humbled by the depth of feeling they always conveyed.  Even in the near darkness, she felt like the only thing in his world.  It was a lovely boon to her confidence, even after her unintended relationship with Will on that awful planet.

Fitz was so good, so generous.  She felt incredibly unworthy, largely a product of the guilt she earned from her time in the field.  A weight earned from the rational, pragmatic decisions she made to protect the team and Fitz.  Except, then he sacrificed everything for her time and time again. 

Her thumb stroked over his.  She could not have asked for a better partner.

He cleared his throat, severing the link between their gaze and not their hands.  “We might be alright in here, assuming the panel is fine and we’ve landed on stable ground.  But I know I heard something break loose before we started the rapid descent.  Even if there is no other structural damage, I doubt the plane will fly again without more maintenance than we are equipped to do.”

Jemma agreed.  “The timing of the sound was odd, although I could not really tell which direction it originated.  It seemed like we lost communications right before the plane lurched.  I wouldn’t think there would be a correlation between the systems.”

“It is why I am concerned about the planes native comm. systems.”  Fitz posited, “if I could get that up again, we could have the others here as fast as the Zephyr could manage it.  Without it, we will have to rely on the kits.”

She couldn’t suppress a smile.  The shiv had its uses, but their kits were so much more functional.  Better still, they had been able to collaborate in a way they hadn’t done in over a year.  That had only highlighted how much she missed that dynamic, missed him specifically.  Her free hand slipped up his arm, curving over his bicep.  “They could stand a few improvements, especially after this impromptu field test.  But they have been quite effective little prototypes.” 

He offered a rare smile, his hand mirroring her actions running up her arms and tucking an errant piece of hair behind her ear. "We always were better together," he said his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes locked on hers. His hand gently cupped her neck with the slightest bit of pressure drawing her closer. Jemma felt her heart skip a beat as everything faded around them her body now moving on its own accord, her lips slowly meeting his own in a tentative brush.  Then a second kiss that grew more urgent.

She could no more escape this pull than she could conquer the force of gravity.  Nor would she wish to.

A sigh escaped her lips and she breathed him in.  Tugging at his lower lip, she urged him onward.

His arms went to her waist, pulling her up onto his lap for easier access to her mouth.  And this time, she dove right in.

* * *

From the darkness down the hall, Doctor Arnold noted the shadowed figures.  With a roll of his eyes, he made the wise decision to bow out without comment, tiptoeing back to the cockpit and clinging towards the wall with his uninjured side.  Once there, he turned and, with great effort, he sat back down, shooting a woeful glance at the ice pack beyond his reach under the cockpit console.

Well, if they hadn’t already disliked him before, this would only solidify it.

“Dr. Simmons!”

* * *

Fitz slammed his eyes shut, begrudgingly pulling his lips from Jemma’s.  Resting his forehead against hers, he savored the fleeting moment and silently cursed the cosmos or karma or whatever other metaphysical universal force seemed hell bent on ruining his relationship with Jemma, before it could even get off the ground.

Mercifully, she appeared to be just a frustrated and even less inclined to move.  “Perhaps the seat was clearly putting too much pressure on his shoulder for him to be comfortable enough to rest properly.”

“And I should get to working on the electrical situation.”  Neither of them made a move to pull apart.

“Can you hear me?” Arnold’s voice boomed.

Jemma rolled her eyes, and leaned in for a quick peck on his lips, a tacit promise to return to their “discussion” later.  She scooped up the cupcakes as she stood up, tossing a mischievous smile back at him.  “You may as well join us after you check on the electrical panel.  We still need to determine if these are actually safe for consumption.”

Fitz watched her pass through the door, before scrambling to pull together his gear.  He suddenly needed to get everything into working order fast.

* * *

Fitz would have patted his own back, if he could.  He had gotten a few of the electrical lines back up, although they would still need to evaluate which lines ran where.  But that would require another set of eyes to confirm the locations.  Whoever had done maintenance on the plane had been doing rather shoddy work.

Jemma had Dr. Arnold re-situated in the main cabin near the still unconscious Agent Marquez by the time he emerged—a bit breathless—from the darkened aft hallway. 

She was bent over Marquez, checking her vitals, her color, and her eyes to the extent possible in the still low light. 

Dr. Arnold looked up at him as he entered.

Without missing a beat or looking up, Jemma commanded the elder doctor.  “Sit back and rest and you won’t lose that ice pack again.”

“Agent Fitz,” Arnold smiled gently, as he shuffled in the seat trying to find the most comfortable position. His eyes still betrayed the signs of pain.  “Agent Simmons brought up the cupcakes to share.”

Fitz narrowed his eyes, opening the box that sat on another open seat.  He moved directly in front of Arnold, putting the container in easy reach.  “Why don’t you have the first one?”

Simmons looked up from her silent patient to monitor the interaction.

"Look, if you don't want any, that's fine," Arnold chided, as he lifted one of the cupcakes from the box.  He took a swipe of frosting with his tongue.

Fitz looked to Jemma, questioning.  If Arnold had no reservations with consumption, maybe they were untainted after all.

“I brought these because I wanted to talk you both into leaving the base to move you to a more secure location.”  He smiled sadly.  “I understood from Agent Weaver that cupcakes were the best way to convince you.   Marquez was the one who decided not to give you the option.”

Fitz felt a bit of a gut punch, remembering the conversation with Gonzales and Weaver when the “Real Shield” had emerged as an issue.  Jemma met his eyes, understanding immediately.  If he knew that information, he must have actually been in contact with Agent Weaver.

Arnold paused between bites, carefully watching the interaction as he finished chewing.  “These were actually homemade.  My mother’s old recipe for red velvet cake, although I own to cheating and using a store-bought cream cheese frosting.”

Fitz’s mouth watered in the truest Pavolvian response.  His own Gran had a penchant for red velvet cake, and snuck him bits under the table when he would go to visit.  Surely his Mum had noticed the red crumbs and sticky fingers, but he didn’t recall her putting an end to Gran’s sweets-pedaling habit.

He looked to Jemma, hoping she’d indicate soon that they were safe to try one.  She was watching Arnold avidly, and didn’t seem to notice his own glance.

A small grimace crosses his face.  "Never quite as good as my Gran would make. Ah well." Arnold popped the whole thing into his mouth at once.

"See not poisoned, please eat something."

Jemma still looks suspicious, but Fitz struggled not to cave to the temptation.

"How do we know they aren't just selectively poisoned?"  She was ever the voice of common sense where food and health was involved.  “If you want to earn our trust, do so by eating the safe one!"

“How would I even know which one I was eating?  It is still dark in here and Agent Fitz controlled which way the box was situated.”  Arnold struggled to keep the urge to shout in check. "You both need to eat and keep up your strength.  I can't very well give Fury hell for not taking proper care of you, if I can't even get you well fed."

Silence fell over the room.  Jemma looked at Arnold in shock and disbelief, as she came to stand right beside him close enough to stare down Dr. Arnold.  "We'll manage just fine on our own, thanks!"

Arnold scoffed.  "You don't even know what you are up against."

"We survived being dropped to the bottom of the ocean," Fitz snapped in growing irritation.

"And we've been quite literally to the end of the Universe and back." Jemma fired off a beat later.

Fitz burst again, his accent getting stronger in his anger. "We have taken down men far stronger than you without lifting a finger. Do not underestimate us!"

"I'm not underestimating you."  Arnold looked genuinely shocked, pulling the volume back to more reasonable, rational levels.  "I've seen more than a decade of reports on your individual and joint accomplishments.  But this...this is bigger than just hydra.  You are in more danger than you can even fathom right now!  Your little field trip to Maveth, makes it even worse."

"We never told you what the planet was called--" Fitz whispered in shock.

"Not even Malick knew." Jemma added.

Arnold blinked, but pressed on.  "To fight a threat of that scale need you to be in peak condition physically and mentally. But Weaver, Morse, May...they all reported that you've been struggling with at least some level of trauma. And pushing any help away."

"What do you mean reported?" Jemma snapped suddenly feeling betrayed.

"Not reported. Confirmed to your Director.  But Fury didn't leave all his toys with Coulson when he left.”

Fitz jumped in.  "So we're toys now!"

"No." He sighed. This was so much easier when Leo was little more than a toddler.

Arnold drew his fingers to his temples.  "God.  I hate having to speak in code."

"Look you want us to trust you give us a reason to" Fitz said suddenly breaking the stalemate. "You tell me why the bloody hell our entire team has been reporting on us and I'll eat one of the cupcakes.”   He ignored Jemma squeezing his wrist.

Again their captor sighed, his frustration evident. This was clearly not how he intended this to go. "Leo..."

Fitz started gently seething at the use of his first name, but Jemma eyes widened in genuine surprise.

"It was part of an agreement, made many years ago...that is all I can say. But you must know that your safety was the reason.  Keeping you safe and protected, why do you think you wound up on a mobile command unit with a man to whom most of the World and Shield for that matter was dead?  With two of Shield's best specialists...including the Calvary herself, coming off of desk duty as a personal favor."  Arnold scratched at his beard.  "Although it is surprising that even Agent Hill didn't see through Agent Ward."

Fitz and Jemma fell into a stunned silence. The bus, the team, had all been to protect him?  Did anyone ever mention that to Coulson?

"Bloody Hell…" was all Fitz could think to whisper.

Jemma reached out and clutched his hand, her own shock evident.

"The last few days are only latest instances in a long list of us being in danger." Fitz said.

Arnold was saddened.. "I know.  Grant Ward should have never been anywhere near you.  He fooled a lot of good people, including Agent Hill.  Did you really believe Fury just happened to be in the area?  He was looking for you.  The Director of Shield, when his entire agency was falling apart, came looking for you, Leo.  That is how important you are. That is why you need to let us keep you safe."

"Agent Simmons, as long as the two of you have worked together, that protection agreement has also extended to you. You have proven your value time and time again.  You both have saved each other and your team more times than you ever should have needed.  There are people out there to whom you both are beyond assets, who made personal sacrifice to ensure your safety.

Fitz met him in the eye before looking to Jemma, taking a bite of the cupcake. He nearly choked when he tasted it, as memories of his own Gran came flooding back.

Jemma watched him with concern.

He gave her a reassuring smile.  "It’s alright. I just haven't tasted one of these in a long time.”

Arnold leaned back in his seat, looking very pleased.   He paused a moment to quip. "Agent Simmons you should probably have some as well, preferably before Agent Fitz finishes them off.”

* * *

Agent May sprinted down the hallway.

Bobbi and Hunter already stood in the hangar on standby.  “Direction?”

“Better.”  May smiled, handing off one of the standard issue tablets. “Coordinates.”  

* * *

Arnold watched as Agent Simmons finally ate the cupcake, delighted at this small victory. Wanting to continue to goodwill and the tentative ceasefire of sorts, he volunteered to help Agent Fitz check the hallways to identify the proper switch. Dr. Simmons fixed him with a severe gaze and had him promise to use all possible caution and not strain his arm. Between the three of them, they managed to get the coding done within minutes, and soon very minimal light poured into the central cabin and could be switched on in the kitchen.

That task completed, Fitz headed outside with an actual Shield issue toolbox in hand. He promised to be back in as soon as he could evaluate and hopefully repair the external damage to the communications systems so they could get a message to Dr. Arnold's base.

Arnold eased himself back down into the seat, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Dr. Arnold, your eyes are looking quite red,” Dr. Simmons stated, as she hovered.  “Are you wearing contacts?”

He nodded without thinking, before his eyes shot back open in realization.  Thankfully, Dr. Simmons seemed to be engrossed in unpacking the med kit.  This particular pair of glasses was purely cosmetic.

“You should probably pull them out.”  She recommended without looking up. “Smoke can irritate the cornea in a normal situation, besides, you’ll want to sleep as comfortable as possible.”

Arnold considered and then obeyed the young Doctor’s orders.  He relinquished them over to her into a small sterile container.  With any luck, he would sleep until their eventual rescue, and then he could replace the contacts back at base.

But Dr. Simmons forced his chin up to examine his eyes, uttering a sympathetic gasp before her professional, analytical mask snapped back into place.  Dropping her hold, she turned back to the med kit, pulling out a packet of pills.  “We’ll give you an anti-inflammatory for the next pain medication.”

Arnold blinked, breathing a sigh of relief.

She pressed the packet into his free hand, and sat down in the jump seat beside him.  “But for now, you can tell me exactly who you are to Fitz.”

* * *

“His father?” Mystified, Daisy’s thoughts spilled from her lips eyes fixated on the picture before her. “But how is that even possible? He died when Fitz was just a kid."

Coulson nodded in agreement, his own confusion plain as day on his face. “I know that’s what I saw in his personnel file.”

“And I saw it myself, when I had to purge our identities from record after Hydra fell.” Daisy confirmed.

Coulson frowned. “Wouldn’t Fitz have recognized him? Was there ever a picture in Fitz’s file?”

“Not that I recall,” Daisy murmured, grabbing her tablet. “But if he’s been underground for so long, maybe he changed his appearance?”

Her fingers tapped out commands on the screen at a speed that still made his eyes spin.

Less than a minute later, they were evaluating a pile of grainy news clipping images of the man who bore a more than passing resemblance to Fitz. His hair was a product of the mid-1990s, longer and straight with thick rimmed glasses obstructing a clear view of his eyes. But the only consistent remark he could make was that the digital detail was poor.

Coulson dreaded a call to Fitz’s mother, especially with no good information on where he and Simmons may have been taken. But it was rapidly looking as if he would have to do so, assuming this was the only lead they had in finding her son. "Are there any other family members still alive?”

Her fingers flew again over the screen, and it was only a few moments before he had his answer. “Not anyone else from his Father’s side.”

“Whose Father are we looking into?”  May chimed from the back of the room.

Coulson looked contrite, offering a half smile.  “Fitz.  We managed to crack open some information from Fury’s toolbox, I hoped would be helpful in figuring out where they were taken.  Instead, we’ve got a new mystery.” 

* * *

Fitz opened the hatch door, and stepped out onto the ground.  It was tall grasses and trees for miles around, but at least the ground was firm.  They had been lucky to set down in a mostly open area.  The nose of the plane was banged up, but was probably still structurally sound.

He had come around to the side with the cockpit, trying to evaluate the structural pieces from the ground before considering climbing up.  On these older models, there was supposed to be a section of antenna that did stand up to improve signal strength.  It must have been ripped clean off, unless this model was modified.

Moving towards the cabin, he looked for an area with a possible toehold, so he could propel himself high enough up to evaluate the situation.  After trying once and sliding back down, he moved to a new position.  The angle was better; he managed to scramble further up before gravity and a lack of toe hold carried him back to earth.  He managed to scratch up the back of his hand on the way down.  He’d give this one more try before he headed back inside to let Jemma bandage it.

He continued to circle the plane, looking for a better ground access closer to the wings.  There was a panel there that might, depending on the actual commission date of the plane, tell him if the antenna equipment was online.  He silently cheered as the outline of the panel came into view.  

Kneeling down to retrieve a tool from the toolbox, the blood from his cut dripping onto the ground and box.    
  
Fitz allowed a small smile as he indulged in the thought of Jemma patching him up and placing a tender kiss to his hand when she was done.    
  
He was about to grab the first screwdriver when suddenly a strong hand wrapped around him from behind, pinning his arms to his side as another cloth covered hand muffled his startled cries for help.  A sickly sweet odor overwhelmed his senses in a matter of moments. He collapsed backwards against his attacker and felt himself being eased to the ground, two blurred faces coming into view as the darkness swallowed him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated! I can't tell you how much I appreciate the number of you who have taken the time to read so far.
> 
> Thank you for your patience as this posting has taken a bit longer than usual. Real life will intervene again in the next few weeks, but then I should be able to go back to a more normal schedule. I managed to sneak this chapter in before all the craziness really gets going, and I'm happy I was able to finish it first! It gives me a lot of time to iron out the more precise research and details as we roll into the next stage of the story. I hope you have enjoyed the ride thus far!


	10. Chapter 10

_Undisclosed Location_  
_22 December 2015, Part V_

* * *

 

“But for now, you can tell me exactly who you are to Fitz.”

He visibly rocked back into his seat, as if punched.  His eyes twitched, pulling into narrow slivers that proved the years had not all been kind.

She schooled her emotions, placidly watching as he squirmed under her gaze.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Agent Simmons.”  He shut his eyes with a wince, hoping it might cover any misstep.  Handling this situation was critical to everyone now involved.  She was far too clever for her own good, but it was not safe for her to know any of it.  Not when Fury hadn’t responded to his requests in so long.

Elegantly lifting a brow, she turned her focus as she rifled through the medical kit.  “I’ve heard your accent slip from time to time, particularly when the pain has clearly been affecting you.  Then, you called Fitz ‘Leo’.  He utterly hates that, and I’m sure that is something Weaver would have put her in her notes to you.  She is nothing if not thorough.”

He winced internally.  Marquez’s research into Dr. Arnold and Agent Weaver had not been quite thorough enough.  There was nothing that really indicated he had grown to hate his given name.  And offending Leo—Fitz—was counterproductive to the entire goal here.

“But if I were to be honest, your eyes were what convinced me.  I’ve spent over a decade looking into those eyes.  They are not exactly the same color.  But they are old eyes and an older soul.”  She smiled, as she pulled a very ominous, long gauged needle from the box and grabbed a tiny vial to prep it.

He grit his teeth.  The pain didn’t scare him, not like the potential ramifications.  But it wouldn’t do for her to figure that out.

“So, you could do this the easy way and cooperate with me.  Or,” Agent Simmons smiled darkly, lifting the needle menacingly, “we could do this the hard way.  All you need to do is tell me who you really are.”

He swallowed, desperately collecting his thoughts and quieting his urge to flee.  There was no way he’d be able to outrun the younger agent, and then he’d be away from food and pain medication in the middle of nowhere.  This was a trial.  Just another of Fury’s many trials he’d endured over the years.  What was the point of extracting Leo if not to get Fury’s attention, so he’d renegotiate their deal?  The radio silence since his son and Agent Simmons were dropped into the depths of the ocean had forced him to other means.  But he knew Fury was still out there manipulating from the shadows, even if Coulson had stepped in as Director of Shield.  He had to be.  Even though Coulson was an outright failure at keeping his son safe physically, Coulson had not reached out to amend the deal on his own.

“Well?” she prodded.

“I truly can’t tell you.  As a Shield Agent, you should understand that some secrets are not yours to tell.” He was resolute, bracing his arms against the chair and gripping and arm rests.  “So, do your worst.”

Agent Simmons tilted her head, considering his response.  Setting the needle back into the case, she smiled back at him with surprising (and likely false) sweetness.  Turning on her heel, she dashed down the hall.

Blinking, he stood and followed her, puzzled at what she could possibly mean to do. Her change in behavior was suddenly more disturbing than her threat with the needle. The adrenaline from the day and trying to cover his tracks already had his pulse racing. And worried what she was about to do, he was immediately on her heels. It turned out her new plan was worse that anything she could have had in that needle. His eyes bulged when she shouted.

“Fitz, could you come in for a moment?” Her voice echoed back through the metal hallways.

Sparing barely a second for an involuntary gasp, his legs propelled him forward mindlessly towards the ramp. He had to get to Fitz first!

* * *

Stretching out her back and neck, May took a brief break from poring over the printed documents unlocked from the toolbox.  So much of it contained redacted memos copied from scanners well before her time at the desk.  She was forced to piece together the context from both the content on the page and from her time in operations.  But it really wasn’t getting her far at this point.

“I want them all back on base ASAP, Agent Morse,” Coulson sternly ordered into the phone.  “Fitz and Simmons are the priority, but we will need the man who impersonated Doctor Arnold for questioning.”

Bobbi’s voice echoed over the speakerphone.  “Does he need to be conscious?”

May smirked slightly at the slight bit of humor Phil wove into his response.  “Not necessarily.  But in one piece, please.”

“Copy that.”

Coulson clicked the phone off, turning back to her.  “Find anything?”

“Most of these memos detail some sort of protection agreement.  Probably between Fury and I can only assume Fitz’s father.”

“I also ran across some genealogy tracking that goes back three generations, but it looks fairly incomplete.”

“Were there any pictures in that pile?  I can only assume if we need to call Fitz’s mother that she will demand to speak to him.”  Phil sighed.  “And that’s probably going to go well for us.”

“There is another alternative:  Find Fury.”

Coulson looked interested, if a bit incredulous.

She was matter of fact.  “By everything I am seeing here, he was directly involved in all of this set up and could positively ID the man quite readily.”

“Except, we don’t really know where he is.”

May smiled.  “We don’t need to find him.  We need to draw him to us.”

* * *

“Fitz?”  Jemma shouted into the darkness as she reached the base of the ramp.

An impressive array of stars was out, unhindered by the cloudless sky and a lack of light pollution.  The view was spectacular, and she selfishly wished quite desperately that circumstances were different.  That she and Fitz might have a few free hours without the baggage of this most recent kidnapping and Fitz’s newfound family member muddying the waters.  Surely after over a decade, they could enjoy more than a single, stolen moment.

“Fitz!”  Shouting again into the night, she shook her head.  There would be time to plan all that later, when they were both safely ensconced in the relatively secure walls of the Playground.

“Agent Simmons.”  Dr. Arnold, for lack of any better term as he decided to not be forthcoming, put a restraining hand on her arm.  “Let’s talk this out.”

She shook her head.  “I gave you the opportunity to be reasonable.”

He lifted his eyes to the heavens, hoping for patience.  “You were threatening me with a needle filled with who knows what else.”

The cover of darkness masked her inclination to roll her eyes.  Really.  Was there something about Fitz’s family that made them turn to the more dramatic?  Besides, if he had been paying the least bit of attention he’d have noticed the needle was empty.  “Fitz?”

She ignored her kidnapper’s pleas, marching into the darkness and reaching absently for her necklace, before forgetting it was no longer there. Fitz not responding gave her pause. Maybe Fitz had his earplugs in? She hadn’t noticed any noise or vibrations from the inside of the plane, but she had been a bit distracted by her realization.  She moved around the plane on autopilot, her stomach churning as it registered the silence.

“Agent Simmons. I must insist--” Arnold’s brogue grew with his agitation.

She held her hand up and moved faster.  She dared not voice her concerns as she scrambled around the nose of the plane, as if voicing them gave them life.

She traced a shaking hand along the side of the plane, looking around the edge and the nearby ground for the slightest clue.  Maybe Fitz had fallen.  Maybe he had already gone back in.

“Where is he?”  the man whispered, suddenly and finally registering the problem.

Jemma tripped slightly over a box, near the wing.  The ground tapered off beneath, hidden by the further shade of the space beneath the wing.  Maybe he had gone back inside for some missing tool?

She sat backwards, slipping her fingers into her hair to tuck back a stray lock.

“Are you alright, Agent Simmons?  You are bleeding.”

A wave of bile crashed against her throat.  Lifting her hand to her eyes, the metallic tang filled her nostrils.  “I don’t think it is mine.”

* * *

It took all of his rapidly waning strength to keep from falling over, but the plane’s metal siding made a surprisingly effective crutch.  This was absurdly unfair after the decades and all the guilt and grief and the pain that he inadvertently caused Mary and Leo.  He had spent years trying to cope with that pain with the likes of smug shrinks like Dr. Arnold.

He had finally gotten to see his son in person after so long.  And now he might be--

“I don’t think there is enough blood here to conclude he's been seriously injured…” Agent Simmons’ voice cut through his mental fog. Her fingers shook as she slipped the drying blood between her fingers. Dazed, she moved to swipe her hand on her pants, and then thought better of it. With a steadying breath, he could see the young agent forcing herself to pull together as she murmured. “I need to examine the box in the light.”

He offered her his good hand up, and tried to lift the tool box before she swooped it up, moving as quickly as the heavy toolbox would allow.

Trailing behind her, he scanned the horizon, as much as the blanket of darkness would allow but nothing but the sparse trees appeared to be around for miles.

Once at the top of the ramp, she could wait no longer and set the box on the platform, using the ramp floodlights to best effect.  With a few moments examination, she breathed a sigh of relief.  “It is just is on the handle and there isn’t much.”

With a smile, he slid down on the platform beside her.  His heart just wasn’t built to take this sort of stress anymore.  But wherever he was, Leo was alright for now.

“Fitz is bleeding, probably from his hand, based on the placement and volume of blood.”  Her fingers were still tracing the edge of the blood.  “I could easily test this once I have my laboratory resources at my disposal, and figure out exactly how close of a familial relationship you have.  We need to figure out where Fitz has gone, and I’m not sure I can work with you until I know I can trust you.”

He looked contrite.  “I’m not sure what I actually can tell you—“

Her eyes rolled, as she shifted her focus to row of kits that lined the ramp wall.  She pulled herself up

“What are you doing?”

Irritated, she shouted over her shoulder.  “I’m trying to find anything that might objectively be helpful.  Something might as well be.”

“My situation is extremely complicated…”

His only answer was the clunking of items in the wall kit as she rifled through with ruthless efficiency.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled the toolbox towards him.  Maybe there would at least be a flashlight inside.

* * *

Jemma was furious, but that anger would do little to get Fitz back.  It was critical now that she focus.  They were God only knows where, with limited supplies and next to no information on where or how Fitz might have gone away.  The only saving grace was that Fitz was probably still wearing his toolkit with the GPS activated.  But she could not allow herself to breath until they at least found a bloody flashlight to check near where the toolkit was left.

Dr. Arnold, for lack of a better name, was at least blessedly silent.  He was hunched over the opened toolbox.

Her eyes narrowed, sourly noting he was no longer actively looking through the box.  She gritted her teeth, moving a bit more recklessly through the next gear pack.  They couldn’t afford to both waste the time.  Every minute Fitz was gone only increased the risk to his safety.

“Agent Simmons,” he breathed, voice trembling.

Her hands nearly shook with anger as she wheeled around again.  His shoulders slumped as he folded a piece of paper in his hands.  Staring forward, he offered the paper up to her with shaky hands.

She grabbed the note, lifting it to the light.

 

> _Dr. Smith:_
> 
> _We have your son._
> 
> _3 pm, 24 Dec_
> 
> _Come alone or he dies._

A string of GPS coordinates were at the bottom for somewhere in the southeast US.

Jaw clenched, Jemma’s nostrils flared as she struggled to keep her breathing under control.

"I thought Skye meeting her father was as poor as a reunion could go," she snapped.   Her pulse grew visceral, thrumming in her ears as adrenaline coursed through her veins.  "Yet you managed to deliver Fitz into unknown enemy hands practically gift wrapped!”

Fitz’s father flinched.  

“Who took him? Who would want you so badly they would kidnap a son that you haven’t even seen in decades?”

“I don’t know.”  He dragged his hands over his face, but his eyes were clearly dazed  

Suppressing the growing urge to throttle the man, she turned away.  She needed to keep her head, and to help him regain his.  Fitz was depending on it.  “Fitz has excelled and achieved so much without your help. Why now?”

“He was in danger.  Very real, and very terrible danger.”  He slumped back against the wall.  “The last piece of information I got from Fury was when you both were dropped into the ocean.”

“Fury?” She rounded on him, incredulous.  

“Did you really think I would not at least check in on him?”  Brows furrowed, he stared down at his hands.  “I had to give up everything I loved.  To walk away knowing it was the only way to keep them safe.  Their ignorance would protect them. That was the last update I ever got from Fury.  That Leo was lying in a hospital bed after he came after you both personally.  I was desperate for news after that, but none ever came.  I had to start using contacts from my agency…”

“Your agency?”

His eyes widened and his hands snapped.  “The name!”

She rolled her eyes.  “What about it?”

He was on his feet surprisingly quickly, given his still injured shoulder.  “I’ve only ever used the Dr. John Smith moniker there.”

“So you’ve worked with an entire agency that has never seen Doctor Who?”

“That.”  He grinned brightly, the smile reaching his eyes.  “And the fact that only someone working there could have sent this note.”

Jemma gaped.  The resemblance really was a bit startling now that the secret was out and the contacts were gone. “It is an inside job?”

He nodded.  “I’m pretty sure.”

“Then that would explain the communication system.”  Jemma smiled as the mental pieces started to fall into place.

“And the forced landing.”

Nodding, her smile evaporated.  “But not why you thought you could protect him better than Shield.”

“According to my information, under your current Director, he was sent on a suicide mission onto a rogue SHIELD aircraft carrier and was one of the thankful few to escape unscathed.  Then, more recently, another set of informants passed along information that he was meeting with an international arms dealer with ties to terrorist organizations.  With no back up.”

Jemma cut him off.  “When did he…”

“Months ago.”  His father pounded his good hand against the wall, before wincing in regret.  “Just like all of the information I can scrap together.  It was always too little.  More and more, I feared it would come entirely too late.  Fury promised me he would be safe when all of this began.  Tucked away in a lab.  After he moved, it was only with the best crew of agents he could muster.”

Her face was pale, her nails cutting half-moons into her palms at her side.  All of this, because of her again...

"Jemma," he said purposely using her first name.  He waited until she met his eyes.   "The moment I learned he was in danger I started planning this.  I had no way to know if I could protect Leo any better than Fury or Coulson, but I had to at least try.  I swear to you we will get him back, even if I must hand myself over to do it."

Choking back a sob, she paused in her study of him when it hit her.  He was hurting just as much as her right now.  She very physically knew the pain of deprivation of someone you love.  But this father had lost his son, a son she'd spent 12 years longer beside.  Slowly she reached out, her hand gently resting on his shoulder in a familiar gesture of comfort she had Fitz had always shared.  "I know we will," she said softly.  "Believe me, my friends won't take this lightly."

He offered a watery smile in return his good hand resting atop hers.   

She gathered herself.  "So, what shall I call you then.  Clearly Dr. Smith and Dr. Arnold are not your real names.”

“Ah.  I haven’t used my real name in a very long time.  Formally, I am Dr. Leonard Andrew Fitz.”

"I take it you hate being called Leo as well?" Jemma asks with a small smirk despite the situation.

"No," he grinned.  "I hated being called Leonard, but Mary always liked it best."

"Fitz lets her call him Leopold," Jemma says with a sad smile.  She couldn’t quash a pang of guilt.  Fitz should be here having this moment with his father.  “We need to do--”

“Something, yes,” he nodded.  “How much longer do you supposed Agent Marquez will be out?”

“I’m not entirely sure.  There are body weight ratios, and there seems to be some variability in how fast some people can metabolize the dendrotoxin.  That and this formula is slightly different than the one we use in the ICERs.  We had just finished the prototypes before you took us.”  
  
His eyes shifted back towards the darkened hallway towards the main cabin, feeling as if time was rapidly running out.  “Marquez's job is strictly my containment and protection.   She will do everything she can to keep me safe and back to base as soon as possible. Meaning when she wakes up  it will be a challenge to have any conversation without her present.  She will do nothing to protect you or Leo...I am her mission and she takes it very seriously.”  His eyes met Jemma’s.  “In case things go poorly, I need Leo to know and understand why I had to leave.  He needs to know so he can keep himself safe.”  
  
Jemma nodded, solemnly hoping that it wouldn't come to that.    
  
“We also have to find where she hid your phones.”  
  
Jemma tilted her head slightly, she frowned.  “I assumed she had destroyed or left them.”    
  
Leonard shook his head. “I don't think so. She didn't have time she was desperate to get us all out of there and in the air.  She cuffed me in immediately before securing you but I didn’t hear her smash anything.   You need to contact your people. They may be able locate and rescue Leo before the exchange would go down.  When Marquez wakes up, she will try to stop any plans we have in motion.”

“So let’s find those phones.”

* * *

May smirked as she came across a copy of Fitz and Simmons Field Assessment Report in the pile of printouts.  She was not terribly surprised to find out they had not passed their first field assessment.  SciOps did not do nearly as much to physically prepare their candidates for Field work.

She blinked as she came to the bottom of the page, noting the clear editing marks.  The result had been modified.

“Coulson?”

With a nod, he wrapped up another unproductive call to a potential contact who might have a lead on Fury’s location.  What good would it do to draw him out if they didn’t have some idea of where to set the trap?  He moved closer to review the document she was handing to him.  “Yes.  Someone told me they had not been field cleared.  I think it was Dr. Streiten, actually.”

“Their file has been modified.”

Coulson took that news will equanimity, considering his own relationship with Dr. Streiten.  

“But I can’t tell by whom.”

His eyebrows raid a little at that.  “Who are you suggesting made that change?”

“I don’t know.”  Her eyebrows furrowed.  “For all that we know and understand, even Fury might actually have had a hand.”

Coulson was startled.  Why would Fury have…?   The director was now finding himself questioning everything he thought he knew Fitz.  “I need Daisy to try to find who made the modification in the electronic record.  Because if it was Fury, all of this indicates he was carrying out his protection agreement to the letter.  Grounding Fitz and Simmons.  Putting them in position for us to pick up. Rescuing them from the med-pod before coming to our aid.”

May set the paperwork down and started walking out of the office.  

“Where are you going?”

“To have a chat with Maria.”

\-----------------

“--should already be awake.”

“Well, that dosage route was still going through trials.  If you wanted exact science, you have to wait for it.”

Fitz suppressed the urge to groan.  The voices were unfamiliar, but his nose and throat both felt raw.  With effort to keep silent and still, he swallowed, testing the pain at his throat.  Whatever they had given him was more effective than Chloroform, but was clearly nasty stuff.  Maybe a type of dendrotoxin.  Jemma had always insisted that it was too far too inflammatory on the mucous membranes.  Perhaps these thugs couldn’t muster the same level of consideration.

“What does it matter?”

“He is just here until the exchange.”  The sigh was audible even through the probably very thick walls of this cell.   “No parent would leave their child threatened in unknown hands.  Accidentally injuring or killing him literally would defeat the purpose.”

Fists balled at his side, Fitz shook with fury.  They could threaten him all they liked, but no one had ever threatened his Mum.  What use or leverage could she possibly provide a crew of villains except to coerce his own assistance.  This was absolutely unacceptable, but as mad as he was.  He still couldn’t show it.  Yet.

He needed to figure out how to get out.  Maybe even how to contact Daisy and Coulson to arrange his own rescue as well as Jemma’s.  

“I need to talk to them about their end of the drop off.  You go, I don’t know, get us food or something.”

“Why?  

“Because clearly, I don’t trust you to watch him without attempting to kill him.”

At least, of all the recent round of kidnappings, this seemed to be the most fly by night organization.  His hands were not bound.  His captors were clearly fighting each other.  Aside from the probably too judicious application of whatever knockout material, they seemed to not have their things in order.  

He had a fighting chance.

* * *

“I was travelling home from a conference, and Mary had him all tucked in.  But like any four year old, he had no interest in sleep.”

Taking a moment’s pause in rifling through through every nook and cranny that might reasonably contain a cell phone or its components, Jemma smiled.  Fitz must have held to on that late night tendency since childhood.  She couldn’t but mentally picture the bright blue eyes and the mop of longer curly hair she recalled from a photo Fitz’s Mum had presented to her with great relish.

Fitz’s father smiled with satisfaction, bouncing from foot to foot lightly as Fitz had during the Academy when struck by a particularly clever idea. The man beside her avidly watched her reaction as he continued his tale.  “By the time I had walked in the house and stuck my head to check on him, he had taken all the electronics in his toys to pieces.”

When she chuckled, his eyes lit up and more than a little bit of brogue broke through his diligently applied southern twang.

“I guess he had hidden away a screwdriver after he watched me repair something a month earlier.  It had disappeared, and I assumed that Mary had just put it away.  Instead, he must have been figuring out the right combination of motor skills to manipulate it.  It was a mixed blessing.  I was equal parts proud of him for figuring out how to get them opened and a little irritated about having to clean up the mess and trying to get him down to sleep.  But worse, it was as if the magical spell of the toys were broken, once he knew what made them tick.  It wasn’t until a few days later that he started to pull together the bits and bobs and re-make them that the magic started to re-appear.”

His smile dimmed.  “I had gotten him a full toolbox for that next Christmas, but then that’s when…”  He trailed off, voice cracking.

Silent, her expression grew pained and she forced herself to keep searching, unsure how to help, unclear on what forced him to leave so abruptly and leave his family to believe he was dead.  It was a terribly messy situation, but there will little she could do unless he volunteered more details.

They had almost reached the aft section of the plane when they finally located the phones.  Marquez had stashed them in a drawer in the kitchen, but had first extracted the Sim cards  Jemma was now diligently replacing in the poor light.

“You are a clever woman.  Fury should have no doubt you found out who I am on your own. Thankfully, I can say truthfully that you did not find out from me.”  His smile tempered.  “But where we are going, they need to underestimate you.”

“What?”  Jemma wrinkled her nose in a mix of confusion and distaste.  She finished up one of the phones, handing it off to him as it booted up and set about working on re-assembling the second one.

He took the phone in his good hand.  “Jemma, if my people understood how clever you are or even just knew about your time offworld, they would not let you leave.  I want to give you something.”  He fished a chain out from under his shirt.  “Just in case I need to hand myself over to get Leo back.”  

She was startled, unsure if he realized he was successfully using the arm where the shoulder had been dislocated only hours past.  “Your arm?”

Fitz’s father gave a wry smile.  “I’ve always managed to heal quickly.  It is probably the only reason I survived what I did.  But that’s a story for when we have a bit more time.”  He held the chain out for her.  “Put this on.  It really belongs to Leo anyways.  It was his Grandmother’s.”

Closing the second phone back with a snap, Jemma out her hand somewhat startled to see a ring dangling from the end of the chain.

Meeting her eyes, he nodded and flipped the phone open.  “Let’s get him back.”

* * *

When silence finally reigned, Fitz reached into his sock for the Fitz Army Knife.  

He’d spent the last half hour scanning the room for any sign of a video camera as his captors continued to bicker in the other room.  Satisfied that the monitoring was minimal, if not non-existent, he went to work.  It seemed very likely that his new captors were new to this whole kidnapping business, and expected him to do little more than sit idly.

He should be able to lock pick his way out of this room and, with a little luck, could grab something to disguise himself to walk to some neighboring section of civilization with a cell phone.

* * *

Daisy jumped out of the shower as the phone rang insistently.  She’d managed to sneak away for a moment to get cleaned up, hoping to clear her head and come back to tackle the problem again.  Her eyes widened as she caught the caller ID.  “Hello!”

“Thank God, Daisy.  I need your help.”

“Jemma!  Are you alright?”

“I am.  But I need a location on Fitz.”

Daisy paused.  “He isn’t with you?”

“He’s been taken.  Someone is apparently after...well, after “Dr. Arnold” and took Fitz as bait.”

“Jemma, “Dr. Arnold” is actually--”

“Fitz’s Father.”  Jemma sighed, slumping down into the seat.  “I know.  I got some of the story already.  How did you find out?”

She could practically hear Daisy’s grin.  “Apparently, Fury left the information buried in Coulson’s Toolbox.  We went scrambling once we figured out you two were missing.  Hunter and Bobbi are already on the way to your location now.”

“Great!”  Jemma’s shoulders dropped as the weight of anxiety started to lift.  “We’ll need their help to rescu--.”

“Actually, you won’t be going anywhere, Agent Simmons.”

Daisy's jaw gasped, trying to make sense of what was happening on the other side of the line.  “Jemma?”

“No”  Jemma shrieked, “give that--”

Daisy pulled the phone back to find that the line went dead.  

* * *

Leonard settled against the plane’s hull, bracing himself for a fight.  He hadn’t exactly cleared bringing his son onto the base.  It would probably be too much to hope for any support for the rescue, much less for a dispensation to get off the base again anytime soon.

“Good evening, Commander.”

“Dr. Smith.”  Her voice was clipped with irritation.  “Your projects were left unattended and may very well have compromised the research.  Your impromptu vacation was not authorized and is against the terms of the agreement.  Need I remind you what happens when you don't do that..."

“Ah.  but that’s why I left.”  Leonard asserted.  “My son was literally dropped into the hands of Hydra.  The other side of the protection agreement was already not being honored.”

The Commander did not back down.  “That does not explain why you did not properly lock up your materials.”

“I did.  I was aware of my travel plans and acted entirely in accordance with procedures.  Marquez even accompanied me, though not quite willingly.”  He cautioned.  “I will need to discuss this with you further after a team  can come to retrieve Marquez, myself, and one other.”

“Dr. Smith.  You know you are not clear to bring uncleared personnel onto the base.”

He sighed.  “Trust me when I assert extenuating circumstances here.”

“Who is this third person?  You know better than to reveal yourself to anyone”  The Commander chided.  "I must say Doctor you treaded in dangerous waters here in terms of our contract."

Leonard grit his teeth and started to pace back and forth.  He didn’t want them to know anything about Agent Simmons, the Commander in particular.  She would never let a talent such as her's go, not with the bonus of actually having lived on an alien world for months.  He had already sold his soul to them, and Jemma did not need to be condemned to the same fate.  “She is my son’s fiancee.  Who would have been here for you to pick up, except he has disappeared in some very disturbing circumstances.”

He was about to argue more when movement attracted his attention back to the ramp.  A very angry, very awake Marquez marched a wide-eyed Agent Simmons down to meet him.  
  
Silent pleading her understanding, he continued.   “She is bound by the same protection rules as my son.”  
  
The Commander snorted.  “We’ll see about that after we discuss the extenuating circumstances.  I’ll have security set up a clean space for her to stay in, but do advise her that she’ll need to be brought in blindfolded.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

Marquez just gaped.  “You can’t be serious.”

Leonard met Jemma’s eyes.   “It’s alright.  You can show her.”

Jemma frowned, digging out the chain.  She was not happy with the lie, but given the circumstances they had few other options.  “We were waiting to get it re-sized.”

“As I told the Commander, she and my son fall under the protection clause.”  

Marquez wasn’t buying it.  “So why didn’t anyone in SHIELD seem to know.”

“You work for some sort of Agency that deals in secrets.  They tend to frown on interpersonal relationships.  But circumstances kept us separated for nearly half a year and it was nearly unbearable for both of us.  We haven't even told the team yet.”

Leonard smiled, gesturing to his makeshift sling.  “I only found out after you were knocked out, when she helped treat my shoulder.”

* * *

“But,” the kidnapper dragged a clammy hand through ashen blond hair.   “That wasn’t our agreement.  I was told--”

“Dr. Jackson, your agreement was with me. You are in no position to dictate terms.”  A smooth voice flowed over the line.  “The agreement was for one.  Dr. Smith and the whole of his research will be in our hands intact, and we will accept one of you into our ranks.”

“But the records will show we both accessed--”

“That isn’t my problem.”  The still smooth and calm voice melted into a thread of steel.  “It is yours.  Deal with it, or we will be accepting no one.”

The line went dead.  He hung up the phone, staring daggers at the ground.  He needed to collect himself and not let any hint of change slip.  His own future depended upon it.

Blinking, he looked up to catch a figure in his hooded sweatshirt about to pass him along the busiest section of the small town street.  The man fiddled with the hood, revealing a bit of curly, dark blond hair.  Plastering on a fake smile, he shouted over.  “Can I help you?”

“Actually,” the younger man smiled, pulling the hood back from over his blue eyes, “if I could borrow your cell phone to make a call that would be great..”

“Sure.”  Dr. Jackson smiled, holding the phone out and urging him closer to the quieter side street  

“Thanks.  I was so sure I’d have to walk forever to find someone with a cell--”

Without warning, Jackson’s hand balled into a fist around the phone and decked the him using the edge as a blunt object.

Fitz sprawled backwards onto the concrete, disoriented.  

Jackson loomed over him, shaking his now sore hand to reduce the pain.  “Well, Mr. Smith.  Why do I think you are going to give me as much trouble as your father does?”

His eyes pressed shut, Fitz shook his head together his wits and his strength.  He needed to land one solid punch and get away as fast as legs could manage.  "I'll be as much trouble as it takes, I won't let you hurt my M--."

It him a beat later, as his focus shifted from the strike he should been trying to land.  ‘My father?’

Quick to press his advantage, Jackson pinned Fitz to the ground, twisting his arm behind his back. "Well, you definitely have your father’s temper."

“You haven't seen my temper yet!”  Grunting with effort, he tried to turn this into a practical application of a physics problem, mentally fighting the pain by calculating the weakest points of force before expending the effort to even the playing field.  Using his free arm as a lever, he rolled to minimize the torsion on his arm and kicked his legs out to knock his captor off balance.  The time spent in physical therapy and watching Hunter and Bobbi train was well worth it.

Jackson’s glasses fell off on the ground, and he made his decision to move.

But not quickly enough.

Jackson shouted at a man across the square, carrying a bag of food.  “Adams.  Grab him.”

* * *

The sounds of boots on pavement echoed all around, and the smell of fuel in the hangar overwhelmed Jemma’s other senses.  The blindfold was a bit itchy, but aside from a plane ride and the sound of a handful of a security detail, every from the Hub or the Triskelion before the fall.  

Fitz’s father leaned towards her and whispered.  “Apologies for the blindfold, but we are still trying to stay a secret organization."

She nodded, before being urged forward by a hand at her back.  

“This way please.”

They moved through a veritable maze of hallways before she was ushered into a smaller, non-descript room.  

“You may remove your blindfold now.”  The guard announced.  “Dr. Smith, you’ll need to relay any needs your guest has to our station for handling.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

He spun on his heel to leave the room, but not before Jemma took note of the insignia at his sleeve.  As her eyes adjusted to the bright light of the room, she barely made out the vague figures of a sword and a circle.

She taxed her mind for possible symbols and came up mostly empty.  An organization that even SHIELD did not know about, and one that did not seem to be affiliated with Hydra.  Where on earth was she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have been paying attention to spoilers this week, there is a non-zero chance that canon is finally going to address some of what I've been proposing in the fic in the next few episodes. This is part exciting and part nerve wracking as I've been writing this since early December, and I've already been really anxious as to how it would measure up against the show. I still intend to finish this work as the original outline dictated, so I'll probably have to adjust or toss the canon compliant tag sometime soon.


	11. Chapter 11

_Undisclosed Location_

_22 December 2015, Part VI_

* * *

 

The stark, gunmetal grey halls of the lower corridor echoed with the angry clack of boots, as Ground Commander Callen lead him back to her office, two guards in tow.  The neat bun atop her head bounced into view, as she moved down the hallway at a rapid clip.  She dragged open her office door and nodded him in, as the guards took stations at the door.

Eyebrows raised, Leonard walked inside the office.  He only spoke after the door had clearly locked into place with a vacuum sealed click.  “Is this level of alert really necessary?”

She leveled a glare, challenging him to contradict her.  “I don’t know.  Perhaps you should explain to me why you have blatantly disregarded every security protocol we have established over the years.”

 He furrowed his brows before sinking into the chair across the desk.  “After getting some rather alarming information on the status of my son’s health about a year and a half ago, I’m sure you were made aware that I have been monitoring him, since the last broadcast from Fury.”

 “I was aware,” she conceded, before looking down at the pile of files on her desk.  She picked up one from the top of the pile, tossing it in his direction.  “I was also aware that you were briefed on the necessity to wait for a go ahead order from former Director Fury.  That was not negotiable.”

“Neither was my son’s safety.  Point of fact, that deal was already negotiated and repeatedly broken as the new Director of Shield allowed him to slip into Hydra’s hands--twice.  He allowed my son, with no appreciable training in field ops or weapons, to approach arms dealers in the field without backup of any sort.”  His jaw set.  “I have committed myself to this effort, but the reciprocal agreement was broken.  If I waited as ordered for another year or month or week, he might not be alive to be rescued.  I returned in good faith that the rest of the agreement would be honored, but I very clearly cannot rely on SHIELD to hold up its end of the bargain under present circumstances.”

“Unfortunately, Dr. Smith, we are at an impasse.”  Her fingers rapped upon the desk.  “You cannot bring your SHIELD agent son into this facility.  I cannot control the fact that his fiance is already here on site.  But I will not risk outright mutiny among the staff.”

He scoffed.  “Surely it is not as bad as all that…”

She raised a stern eyebrow.  “After the departure of Director Fury, we lost all SHIELD support, aside from the infrastructure he had previously allocated to us.  Without that and the staffing the former Sci Ops head has been sending in our direction, we’d hardly be able to run ground support.  We haven’t been able to send additional support or tech up to the Peak without the now defunct Slingshot protocol.  Can you tell me how are we supposed to be vigilant against alien threats with rapidly aging technology?  I have been struggling to meet that need each and every day.”

Leonard winced.  He had hoped to keep his features mostly impassive, but Fury had truly made things impossible for all of them when he stepped away from SHIELD.  He still wanted to relocate Leo somewhere safe.  It wasn’t just for his own peace of mind.  It could actually prove crucial to the survival of mankind if his theory proved to be correct.

“There is also a remarkable amount of bad blood from the older Agents who saw SHIELD get the lion’s share of funding and technologies budget.  All of that was effectively squandered with a Hydra takeover from inside the Agency. Needless to say, SWORD will not be dedicating any of our limited resources to save a Shield agent.  I know that Commander Brand will agree if I need to escalate this all the way to her.”

“Not even when that SHIELD agent, who was covered by a joint commission Agreement, was captured by SWORD Agents?”  Leonard demanded, fighting to keep his temper in check.  
  
The Commander’s narrowed her eyes.  “I assume this is the ‘disturbing circumstance’ you referred to earlier.  It is a very serious allegations Doctor” she chided icily.  "Who here would want your son?  Or even know of your connection to him for that matter.  We went through additional precautions to keep that piece information secret should they be tortured for information on you.”  
  
“I know you did," he said exasperatedly, pulling the paper from his pocket and tossing it onto her desk.  "Yet I received a ransom note demanding that I, as Dr. Smith, be turned over in exchange for my son.”  
  
Her eyes widened as she read it over, and he continued.  “This is the only place I have used that name.”  He slouched back into the chair, scrubbing his hands over his face.  
  
She stood up, handing him a pad and a pen.  “I need a list of who might have overheard you looking for your son.”

* * *

After a wave of static, Maria Hill’s semi-perturbed face appeared across the screen.  “Coulson.  Is there a reason that Agent May is camped outside my apartment door?”

He smiled.  May managed to get there in record time.  “You didn’t just think to open the door and ask her?”  

“I could.”  Maria chimed, taking another peek outside the peep hole.  May was now on the phone.  “But the last time I invited you all in, I had to relocate.  SHIELD is still considered Agency non-grata last I checked, and the espionage community knows Agent May on sight.  I really like this apartment Phil.  The rent is reasonable, the commute is easy, and the landlord falls all over himself to fix my maintenance requests immediately.  They just refinished the hardwood floors.”

“Yes.  We’re trying to track someone down.  They’ve managed to successfully elude our resources.  We thought Tony might have something there that you could use to assist.”

She quirked a brow.  “It isn’t something I might know about?”

"Not unless you can tell me why SHIELD was strategically getting into the witness protection game nearly 20 years ago with one of my agents.”

Shaking her head, she pressed her lips together.  “My knowledge for level of detail only goes back maybe eight to ten years.”

“So, we need you to find someone with information that goes back further,” Coulson prompted.

A persistent knock interrupted the conversation.  Looking back, Maria frowned at the door and then asked, “Who exactly did you need me to find?”

The door swung open suddenly, flinging a few shards of the lock across the room.

May half-sprinted into the room.  "Daisy confirmed that the situation has escalated.  We are out of time.”  She turned to Maria, her expression carefully placid.   “And I did ask nicely."

* * *

Fitz rubbed his rapidly bruising arms.  Jackson did not take kindly to his efforts to get away and egged Adams on in roughing him up a bit as they dragged him back to their makeshift prison.

This had to be some sort of joke.  His father had died so long ago.  Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity?  If he changed his accent, maybe they would second guess that they had taken the right person?

Adams entered the cell, locking the door behind him and standing just beside the door.  He was the older of the two captors and older by probably a good decade, as tan and dark as his co-conspirator was pale.  A sneer marred his otherwise friendly features, as he snagged a picture of Fitz with his cell phone.  "I have to admit Mr. Smith the resemblance is uncanny. I'll bet everyone just adores those eyes, they do your father’s.”

Fitz was unimpressed.  So far his kidnappers had proved to be inexperienced at best, and he figured his best bet would be outsmarting them.  So pushed a generic Southern drawl into a fake american accent.  “I truly have no idea what you are talkin’ about.  My Pop died when I was young.”  
  
The sneer grew deeper pressing on.  “Lack of a father explains your lack of manners, but not the uncanny resemblance.  Nor his interest in getting you back.”

Fitz scowled, the accent slipping away.  “I was there when we buried him.  I saw the casket before it was put in the ground.  He's gone and has been for years. You buffoons, whoever you are and whatever you want, have the wrong  person."  
  
Adams set his jaw, viewing Fitz with narrowed eyes for a moment before leaving the cell.  The door was closed and locked for barely a minute before he came back with a laptop, a badge picture up on the screen, cruel smile upon his face.  “Tell me that is not your father.”  
  
Fitz stared at the screen, incredulous.  The face was clearly Dr. Arnold, but the man must have been wearing contacts and possibly a bit of makeup.  He looked only a few years older than the face appearing in sparse pictures that occupied space on their wall over the years.

What on earth was the man about?  The similarity was remarkable without the disguise, even if he might have expected his father to look at least a bit older.  Perhaps Dr. Arnold was actually an uncle that he never knew existed.

Adams guffawed as he watched the rapid change in his captives features.  “I did tell you," he taunted relishing the power he had, the pain he was clearly causing. "Probably just as well that you never really knew him.  He is incredibly obnoxious with a superiority complex. Everyone just falls all over themselves for him and his mediocre research. And once he hands himself over for the exchange, you can go back to your pathetic life as if all this never happened.”  
  
Fitz looked up at the older man, jaw set once again in defiance yet his eyes still betrayed his sadness. "Right. But again you have made a crucial error.  If he left me all those years ago, if he is the man you say he is, why would he even bother to hand himself over just to save me?”

Adams slanted a dark glare right back at him.  “You had better hope he turns himself over.  Otherwise we will have to go back and use pretty little girl we saw you with earlier as additional leverage."

He turned on his heel slamming the door shut to drown out Fitz's screams to keep away from her.

* * *

Jemma paced the room, uncertain what was worse.  The fact there had been no contact from anyone in the hour or more since she was lead unceremoniously into the room and abandoned.  Her overactive imagination was putting Fitz into every awful situation she could imagine, which, considering her own experience, was a remarkably robust list.  What were his captors doing to him?  Was he safe until that time expired?  
  
The walls of the rather small room were dull grey, and the seat was uncomfortable at best.  No one had thought to leave her even a glass of water, and she was growing increasingly parched.  But most importantly, there was no clock.  The kidnappers had given a deadline and she had no idea how much of that precious time was left.   
  
Blowing out a short breath, she bit her lip, trying to keep herself calm, trying not to focus on the steady stream of awful possible scenarios that plagued her mind and instead focus on how they might rescue Fitz.  
  
It seemed nearly impossible from this literal fortress, her only ally whisked away from her. She felt like a prisoner herself. Her only hope was that Daisy might be able to raise some location information and send the team.  Fitz’s father surely could only do so much.  Had she known she would be brought into this new paramilitary type organization she might have racked her brain harder on a solution.  Fought Marquez harder to get away or had the foresight to proactively restrain Marquez so she could assure herself that the entire team was inbound to rescue Fitz.  
  
She set her hand on her stomach to help quell the churning.  “Just hang in there, Fitz. We will find you.”  

* * *

Leonard slid the list of names to The Commander, who frowned as she pored over the length.  “I still can’t commit any resources to this, but if there is anyone you do trust, you can bring them in to help in their off hours.  I just need you to let me know first.”  
  
He nodded, already running down a mental list of his own.  “You’ll be cross referencing against anyone who is off site currently?”  He asked urgently.   
  
“Yes, though there are quite a few," she assured, slipping the document into a new Top Secret folder.  “I will alert you if I have identified a suspect.  Now, your son’s fiance will need to stay in observation until she is removed from the site.  She has seen far too much for my liking already.”  
  
“You must be joking,” he muttered after his jaw dropped.  “Surely she could sign some sort of confidentiality agreement or stay in the remote wing with hallway monitoring.”  
  
“Dr. Smith.  Have you ever known me to joke about matters of security?”  
  
“She is a single, unarmed woman with a good head on her shoulders.  And you just want to drop her in the middle of an unknown country.  For god’s sake she was just abducted with my son, what if someone tries again.  No one, us or her team would ever know!"  
  
The Commander tilted her head and gave a thin smile.  She selected a few buttons and a feed direct to Simmons’ interrogation room appeared on the wall behind him.   “It is because she is also a woman that I know not to underestimate her.  And as we've established before, you brought her into this knowing full well she had no protection under our contract.”

Leonard watched Jemma pacing back and forth with the same anxious energy he felt.  “I could definitely use her assistance in helping to get her fiance back.  That will require contact capabilities not available on that wing.  Besides, there is not even a bed in that room and it doesn’t even look like someone has thought to bring her anything to drink.”  
  
“Dr. Smith, if it would make you more comfortable, I can dedicate some of security’s overtime hours to vetting your son’s fiancee.  Doing background checks. Seeing if she could possibly have a place with us."  

Leonard felt a flare of panic.  The last thing they needed was anyone looking too deeply into Jemma or her off world stint.  Thankfully, the commander continued, "But those are people we can ill afford to leave the site for that research in the event of a larger plot here.”

Leonard spoke without thinking.  “That isn’t my only concern…”

On the screen, Jemma was rapidly growing more agitated, pacing even faster than before.  She kept placing a hand over her midsection, likely to quiet the butterflies in her stomach.  

Fury planned contingencies for his contingencies into their contract.  For once, he could turn that on its head to finally work out their collective advantage.  Assuming, of course, Jemma was willing to go along with the ruse.  She had spent some number of weeks undercover and then months offworld.  Surely this would be easy in comparison.  She was clever enough to sell the role.  Besides, if it got them all out of this mess unharmed, surely it was worth the minor inconvenience.

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.  “If you check the contract, the level of protection that applies to me applies to anyone with my blood running through their veins.”

“As we established before…”

“Yes.  But I understand there was a reason that my son and his fiance decided to wed a bit more quickly than they’d otherwise intended.”

The Commander folded her arms, looking back at the monitor.  Her eyes widened as Jemma’s hand slid back to her stomach.  “Is she?”

"I really do think you should see to that poor girl getting some water.” Leonard added, seeing if she took the bait.  “I'd think you should hate for her to become ill.  After all, if anything should happen, it would jeopardize the contract, including the whole of my work with you.”

* * *

“We truly need to look into more interesting locales for our travel.”  Hunter quipped, tugging at the heavy pack on his back, “at least ones that offer car service.”

Bobbi smiled back at him.  They set the quinjet down outside of a fairly remote small town near the coordinates that Daisy provided.  “They’re more likely to respond positively to stranded travellers than anyone looking official.”  

“Which is well and good, except that most small towns are typically averse to outsiders of any type.”

“That is actually a good point.”  Bobbi stared up, assessing the remaining trek up the hills.  

“I do make them from time to time.”  Hunter was breathing a bit heavily, as he crested the hill to stand beside her.  

Sighing, she unzipped the tactical gear and slipped her arms from the sleeves.  

“Are we doing this now?”  Hunter blinked.  “Not that I am complaining.  I just think the hill is a bit steep.  It would be a shame to end up rolling the whole way back down.  Plus the rug burn.”

She rolled her eyes before chucking her discarded top at him.  “Hand over the pack.  We’ll need as much sympathy as we can get, and no one would buy it with us in tactical gear.”

They proceeded to change over to civilian clothes in relative silence.  Hunter kept watching her with a slow smile, as she mentally mapped out the next leg of the retrieval mission.  Plans were never really his thing, but her plans worked when she accounted and controlled for every variable.

“What do you say, Bob?”  Hunter jokingly grinned, going so far as to drop to one knee.  "Will you pretend to marry me again to save our wayward scientists?"

She tugged him back up with a smile that bridged the gap between sly and sweet, the late afternoon sun ringing a halo of light about her head that put him in mind of avenging angels.

But only until her fist came flying at his face.

"What was that for!?" Hunter bellowed, holding his eye.  "A simple no would have sufficed.  Bloody hell beast."

“That was for sympathy.”  Bobbi murmured, tugging his hand away from his face and gingerly pressing a kiss at his brow before moving down to meet his lips.  “And that was for the offer.”

“So was that a yes then?” he jibed hopefully, returning her kiss with equal fervor.

"No?"  He murmured, breathing hungrily between kisses. "I've never been good at subtlety."

Bobbi pulled him in for one last deep kiss resting her forehead against his.  "Yes," she whispered, before gently butting her forehead against his.  “Now, get moving.  Fitz needs us.”

* * *

Jemma eyes flew to the door as it finally cracked open.  “Thank goodness, Dr. --”  She blinked, looking into the doorway to find it occupied by two armed guards and a female technician.  “Oh!  You are not Dr. Smith.”

“No, ma’am,” one of the guards stated.  “We have orders to take you down to the med bay for evaluation.  Dr. Smith will meet you there later.”    

The tech piped up.  “We will need to ask you to wear the blindfold again as we move you, but we did bring along a wheelchair for your convenience.”

Jemma nodded, and reached down to grab the makeshift pack of gear she brought in with her, including the questionably functional pieces of her cell phone.  

“That’s alright ma’am.”  The guard bellowed a bit forcefully, gesturing towards the wheelchair.  “We can lift things for you.”

“Alright.”  She blinked, sinking into the wheelchair and holding still as the blindfold was replaced over her eyes.  How odd that they had gone from disinterested to near bending over backwards to accommodate her.  Fitz’s father must have impressed upon them how dire the circumstances were.  Perhaps they were even well on the way to identifying the culprits.

* * *

After another venture through the labyrinth of echoing hallways, Jemma was wheeled into a cavernous, empty room.  She found it odd they would slow down over anything that resembled a bump. Safely to their destination, the technician removed the blindfold, and gently helped her out of the wheelchair and onto the bed. 

“We’ll be just outside the hallway,” the larger guard announced just before shutting the door.  “Dr. Avery should be in shortly.”  
  
The tech smiled.  “Do you need some water?  Maybe something to eat?”  
  
Jemma smiled serenely.  “That would be lovely.  I’ve not eaten in hours and am starting to feel a bit peckish."

“Let me send one of the boys off  for something.  Any requests?”  
  
“Just water and something healthy for the moment,” Jemma assured.  She didn’t want to push her luck and start making unreasonable demands, not knowing what sort of food access this agency might have.  But the only thing she had eaten since her abduction was a nutrition bar and cupcake.  Anything sweet was liable to make her sick right now.

“Sure, Dear."  The tech said, as she opened up the door, to the find the doctor just about to knock.  “Dr. Avery?”  
  
“How is our patient?” The doctor smiled, grabbing gloves at the entryway and tugging them on with a snap of latex.  “Oh.  Actually.  Do you have any allergies to latex?”

Jemma’s eyes widened as the doctor turned towards her.  She was absolutely not expecting to recognize anyone in this agency.  Though Avery was a common enough last name, the voice took her back nearly a decade in an instant. One of Shield Academy’s professors dropped back into her life within the confines of this new agency.  How did that even happen?  Moreover, how was it even possible?  Agent Weaver definitely implied that nearly everyone at the Academy was lost in the fall.

Grabbing a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff, Avery snapped her own mouth closed.  “Are you feeling alright?”     
  
Jemma smiled thinly, hoping to cover the rapid escalation of her pulse.  “J-just a bit anxious.  It's been all lot, I was shot with some sort of sedative, then our plane went down, and Fitz..." Her voice hitching and her hand back to her stomach to quell the churning that had suddenly returned.

“A sedative...plane crash!?”  Avery nearly screeched.  “You must be joking.  Do you have any idea what kind of sedative?”  
  
“I’m not certain.  Agent Marquez shot me with it yesterday evening, before we were forcibly removed from our location.”  Jemma leaned back on the exam table.  “Luckily, the crash was at relatively slow speed.  Of all of us, only Dr. Smith ended up with an injury to be patched up.”  
  
Avery swallowed, adding abduction to the list.  Silently thanking the clever engineer who had the forethought to soften any hard plane landings, she turned to the technician.  “Rachel, why don’t you go see what you can scrounge up for food.  We’ll need to have our patient calmed down before we should try to read her vitals.”

Rachel nodded, her own eyes wide at what she had just heard.  What that poor girl had gone through was an outrage and, in her current condition, an abomination.  
  
“And Rachel.”  The tech looked back trying to hide the watering of her eyes. "If you see Marquez, send her down to see me.  I’d like to have a nice, long chat with her.”

After the door closed, Avery turned back to her patient, flashing a light into her eyes to watch for any lingering signs of shock.  “Now, Dr. Jemma Simmons.  Tell me how you survived the fall.”

Jemma  was taken aback.  This had been a common way of greeting people following the fall, but since then, it had seemed most of those that had survived had been found. She nodded to the corners of the room., “But--.”  
  
Avery tilted her head, briefly checking her charge  for any obvious signs of bruising from the crash.  “No monitoring in here.  A concession to Doctor-patient confidentiality.  Now, you mentioned Dr. Fitz.  He escaped as well?”

"Yes, we had some good people at our backs," Jemma replied cautiously.  "Although neither of us made it through the fall unchanged.   But Professor, I could ask you the same thing," she added, deliberately testing the waters.

Dr. Avery smiled as she placed the blood pressure cuff on Jemma’s arm.  “I was at a conference the day of the fall.  I happened to go to the hotel bar for a quick bite to eat and saw the news feeds.  I drew as much cash from my accounts as the bank would allow and went into hiding for months until Agent Weaver found me.”

“Agent Weaver?”

“Yes.”  Avery pressed the stethoscope to the crease of her elbow and inflated the cuff.  “How many of your classmates did you ever run into after your left the academy?  Aside from Agent Fitz, of course.”

Jemma drew a cautious breath, willing herself to keep calm.  “Only a few, honestly.”

Satisfied that her patient’s blood pressure fell within an acceptable range, she set down the equipment.  “As best as I can tell, she had actually been sending staff support across SHIELD or in outreach before the fall, but didn’t fail to notice that some were disappearing from her radar after graduation.  She was able to reconnect with a few several months ago and found they were supporting this particular splinter of SHIELD.  Considering it was underground, it was a natural fit for those that survived.  The mission was aligned with SHIELDs.  Most of us just were never aware it existed.”

Jemma blinked, trying to process this new information.  “What mission?”

“‘As a counter-terrorism and intelligence agency which deals with extraterrestrial threats to world security,’ if you believe the handbook.  Although, at this facility, we’re mostly increasing the observational capabilities and providing ancillary technical support for the main base.”   Avery pulled the stool in closer to the bed.  “Fury set SWORD up years ago, because he didn’t trust the World Council’s oversight.”  

“Dr. Avery, why are you telling me all this?” Jemma asked nervously feeling the uneasiness bubbling in her stomach again. Unconsciously, her hand drifted there in a vain attempt to quell it.  
  
Dr. Avery smiled.  “Because your brilliant mind could do so much to help steer the technology department in the right direction.  Did Dr. Fitz accompany you here as well?”

Her face fell.  “He was with us.  Dr. Smith brought us away from SHIELD, but something happened to force the quinjet down.  I was inside the plane attending to injuries.  Fitz had gone outside to see if the communications systems were salvageable when he was kidnapped.  I think Dr. Smith was hoping to persuade the commander for assistance in getting him back quickly.”

Dr. Avery looked puzzled.  "Dr. Fitz would not happen to be related to Dr. Smith, now, would he?"

Jemma’s lips pressed together.  “As a matter of fact…”

Avery half-cackled, clapping for a few moments before pressing her hands together and drawing them to her lips.  “I knew Smith reminded me of someone, and I’ve had the very devil of a time placing it.  But you should have mentioned that you and Dr. Fitz had gotten engaged.”

Jemma pressed the pads of her fingers to her temple vowing to have some serious words with Doctor Fitz upon his arrival.  “It is actually all a bit new…”  
  
Avery noticed and grew reserved, gathering up the materials to draw a preliminary serum sample.  “But surely it doesn’t really feel new?  After, what?  A decade of very close partnership?  I would not have been surprised if you realized it during your tenure at Sci-Ops.”

Jemma grew quietly introspective, offering her arm for the draw.

  
“Although most of the other faculty thought you both would have gotten together before leaving the Academy.”  
  
“What?”  Jemma looked shocked.  She had been mentally puzzling out why they would be need a blood sample.  Surely a standard physical evaluation would suffice given the circumstances.   
  
“Agent Weaver even owes me $100,” Avery smirked, as she removed the sample tube and applied the bandage to Jemma’s arm.  “But all that alleviates my concerns a bit, considering your condition.  Let me process this and I’ll see what I can do to help you track down Agent Fitz.”

Jemma could hardly keep up, which was usually a difficult task to accomplish.  She mumbled a perfunctory “Thank you,” before her brain caught up.  “Wait.  What condition?”

Avery patted her hand.  "I understand this must all be a bit much to process. Even brilliant minds like yours can succumb to the veritable cocktail of pregnancy hormones.”  

Jemma felt her world tip on its axis, and was thankful that Avery turned away to label the sample tube.  Only her sheer will power to get Fitz back, and a now escalating desire to throttle his father kept her conscious.    
  
“Now,” Avery murmured gently, turning around and helping Jemma off the bed. "Let me get the sample over to my technicians, and we’ll see about getting Dr. Fitz back home where he belongs as soon as we can.”


	12. Chapter 12

A Path Written in the Stars  
Chapter 12:

Undisclosed Location  
23 December 2015

* * *

 

Bobbi stifled a groan as the muscles of her legs burned in protest of what was hopefully the final leg of the ascent up to town. She could easily hold her own on the mat or in a fight, but this was going into the third hour of their trek up and down the mountainous terrain and the sun was just rising. With the proper gear, this would have been done an hour ago. But gear meant questions they could not afford right now. Maybe she’d have to make a point to improve her endurance once they finished the mission.

Hunter was right at her heels as they crest the ridge, peeling the pack from where it dug into his shoulders. “I could literally kill for a beer right now, but who even knows if they’ll have a decent bar in this remote little dive.”

He was well into massaging his shoulders, before realizing Bobbi wasn’t paying him attention. Her eyes were trained into a little field in the valley below. “Bob?”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Not sure. What am I looking at?”

“The perfect place to land a Shield-class quinjet.”

Hunter’s eyes raked over the empty valley before he turned towards her, confused. “I’m not seeing anything.”

Her lips quirked into a smile, as she spotted a section of the taller grasses that seemed to bend consistently despite the ebb and flow of the wind. “Exactly.”

* * *

After his debriefing with the Commander, Leonard moved to grab food from the community kitchen. If Jemma was nearly as hungry as he was, she’d appreciate the thought, even if all he could scrounge were some leftover pizzas.

Callen was always a particularly tough nut to crack, and they were fortunate that she bought the ruse. Now, he just needed to get to Jemma and explain the necessity, and nothing smoothed over difficulties like the local (and very discrete) Mom & Pop pizza shop.

Leonard raced back to the interrogation room, balancing the two plates in one hand as he maneuvered the handle with the now mostly healed arm.

He gaped into the empty room, and felt his stomach abandon him entirely. There was no way he had managed to lose both Leo and Jemma in the span of a single day.

The plates toppled to the ground as he could do little more than stare at the empty chair in disbelief. He was beginning to see perhaps why Coulson had such trouble keeping track of them.

* * *

 

A pair of strappy white heels clacked along the pristine floor as Agent May strode with a purpose to the appointment desk in the Stark Tower lobby. Plastering a smile on her face, she smoothed down the front of the simple suit jacket behind the desk. “I have a 9:00 am appointment with Maria Hill.”

The male administrator gave a perfunctory smile and clicked the mouse efficiently, pulling up a calendar appointment that included a full data file.. “Ah, yes. Melinda? Let me contact her assistant.”

May smiled serenely, suppressing the urge to rap her fingernails on the desk impatiently. This was certainly necessary, but by no means the best use of her skill set. Every minute wasted here was another minute without the adequate tools to bring Fitz and Simmons back in safely, let alone deal with the imposter who drugged the majority of the base.

“Ma’am. I’m having some difficulty reaching her assistant.”

Maria was already standing beside the desk, gesturing for May to follow. “That is because my assistant is out apartment hunting.” Turning to May, she ordered for the assistant’s benefit. “Let’s start with the facility tour, and then we will discuss the details in my office.”

May followed beside her quietly, as they entered the elevator.. “Are the heightened security checks really necessary?”

Maria quirked an eyebrow, as she slid her keycard in the elevator. “After the incident at Cross Technologies, we are taking every precaution.”

* * *

 

“Mr. Jackson, Gideon Malick is asking for the proof of life picture.”

Jackson scowled, as he watched his captive pace the small room on the monitor. He felt nearly as trapped, although he was not technically caged. Hydra at least owed him the respect of the title he’d earned. “It’s ‘Doctor,’, Mr. Giyera.”

Giyera was unmoved. “Regardless. The picture?”

“I just sent the same one to Smith along with the demand to speed up the timetable.” Jackson rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why would he need it anyway, he just wants Smith?”

“Consider it proof for his trust.”

* * *

The depression in the field became obvious as they grew closer. Bobbi reached for her staves to keep at the ready as they approached. The engines were not humming so the quinjet was not primed to ascend, but there was no telling whether or not someone inside the plane may have seen them coming.

The masking only visually obscured the outside, although the bend of light became more obvious within a few feet. Hunter reached out to touch the plane, still a bit surprised when his hand met the cold metal. “Don’t think anyone is home. Figures Fitz wouldn’t be that easy to track down”

Frowning, Bobbi slid her hand along the plane, seeking the the lever that would allow the hydraulics to drop the ramp down. It was disconcerting seeing the very subtle hook of light around the frame of the plane, but she couldn’t help but be thankful for it. With so little information at hand, they would need every tactical advantage on this mission.

Finding the handle, Bobbi caught Hunter’s eyes, nodding him around the left side of the ramp. The frame and landing gear marginally obscured them from each other and could still provide some level of surprise if someone was still on board and came to check on the ramp. If they were really lucky, they might be able to disable the plane and buy additional time to get Fitz out.

Drawing a steadying breath, she pulled the lever and moved into position.

* * *

Giyera was standing at Gideon Mallick’s right hand, impatiently waiting for orders. He always felt ill at ease in this room, surrounded by a cacophony of noise from the screens and the husk of a man who lay still as the grave on a throne of pillows and couch cushions. The broken Inhuman’s eyes were stark and hollow but nearly the only thing in motion from that corner of the room. They drew his attention with magnetic force.

A slim smirk crossed Mallick’s lips, as he thumbed through the cell phone screen. “Well, well. Mr. Fitz. We meet again.”

Giyera nearly grinned. He knew he had recognized Fitz’s face, and now Malick would send him elsewhere to go renegotiate. It was a not insignificant mercy, as he felt the pull of the Inhuman’s eyes again from across the room. He hadn’t see that much movement from him since they picked him up outside the portal.

“Call Mr. Jackson.”

Giyera snapped his eyes back to Malick, nodding as an afterthought.

“Tell him we want the boy as well.” Malick practically hummed with glee. “If Jackson manages to bring Mr. Fitz in too, we’ll also take his assistant.”

Giyera blinked again, shaking off the pull and focus on the orders. He could swear he saw the Inhuman’s lips curl even from this distance.

* * *

Avery raised an eyebrow as she escorted Jemma to the door. Jemma may have been one of the youngest scientific agents Shield ever trained, but she was never was particularly good as masking her feelings as a student. Logically, that was probably due in large part to her more genuine nature or inexperience. Since then, the young woman had matured, spent several years in the field, and survived the Hydra takeover, so her skill set must have improved. So, why was it that she definitely seemed floored at the announcement of her pregnancy?

She would definitely have to run these results on her own and quickly. If Commander Callen had softened due to her impression of Jemma’s condition, and found out it was false, there would be hell to pay. Both for Jemma and Dr. Smith. Given the rough treatment she had gotten on the way here, something was being hidden for good reason. However, it was unlikely she’d get the tale without the proper evidence.

“You know. I did forget to ask, Jemma. How far along are you?”

She bit her lip. “It is...very new. Just a week and a half past. You might not even be able to get high enough HcG readings from the serum test. I didn’t get a chance to test myself before we were swept off…”

“From where?”

“One of the surviving bases. Fitz and I were trying to rest up from a particularly harrowing mission and Weaver brought in a psychiatrist. Dr. Smith showed up,” Jemma wrinkled her brow, “he used that identity to get into the base and access to us, but he and Fitz were not introduced properly before Fitz was grabbed.”

Avery squinted at her briefly. “All your lab skills are current right?

Her nose scrunched up slightly. “Of course.”

“Good,” Avery assured. “The Commander hates liability. If you can be useful and monitored by me or Dr. Smith during your stay here, that will make everything go more smoothly.”

”Surely, I won’t be able to help very much before I have to leave. Whoever has taken Fitz gave a now looming deadline. There was hardly any time to start looking before I was tucked away in a holding cell, and I’m not sure even Dr. Smith has a notion of the first place to look.”

A loud commotion in the hall drew both sets of eyes to Dr. Smith standing mostly breathless in the doorway. “Oh, thank God.”

Jemma scowled. “Where have you been?”

“Talking to the commander and grabbing some food.” He lurched forward, delicately balancing the two plates in his good arm. “My discussion with the Commander took a bit longer than anticipated, but I ended up getting a few leads--.” He trailed off as he noticed they were not alone.. “Dr. Avery.”

Amusement pervaded her smile, as she watched the interaction between her peer and her former protege. “Dr. Smith.”

Jemma grabbed the plates from him, setting one down on the table. “Dr. Avery taught courses at...the university your son and I attended together. We’ve been catching up, as she’s has been checking my health status after the crash.” She nodded at the chair. “In fact, she should probably check your shoulder as well.”

Dr. Smith wearily sank down into the chair, keeping his eyes trained on Jemma, as she slowly savored even the now cold slice of veggie pizza.

“Let’s see the limits of your range of motion, Dr. Smith.” Avery instructed, holding out her hand for him to extend his arm. “I’ll direct the motion. You stop when it starts to hurt.”

Dr. Smith did as he was bid, and far more quietly than usual. For a man so used to getting his own way professionally, it was perversely amusing to see him so wrapped around Jemma’s little finger.

Avery stopped the elevation of his arm at about the edge of the normal range of motion. He was showing no signs of pain, but it was always worth checking rather than risking exacerbating underlying injuries further. “Have you taken anything for the pain?”

“Not in several hours.” Smith was watching Jemma carefully, as he answered. “Perhaps the injury looked much worse in the bad lighting of the plane?”

She was frowning at him in earnest. "Dr. Avery. Could I speak to Dr. Smith in private for a brief moment? I haven’t really gotten a moment to talk about any possible health or carrier conditions that might stem from Fitz's father's side."

“I supposed that shouldn’t be an issue. I thought I might ask to check in on Marquez and then phone the Commander to see if she might allow you to shadow me.”

Jemma nodded absently, so she collected the samples and pressed on down the hall to give both of her patients a moment of privacy.

* * *

Coulson frowned at the base of the Zephyr ramp. With Malick still on the loose, he was not fond of leaving the base unoccupied and the various search algorithms they had running. They would have no manpower to run him down once results popped.

But someone had to command the Zephyr and someone had to be covering Daisy with ground support for the rescue mission. May was still with Maria. Agent Morse and Hunter still hadn’t provided an update on their recon in the search for where the kidnappers were keeping Fitz or where the intended swap was going to take place. Simmons was still a mystery, his young biochemist seeming to have dropped off the face of the earth after contacting Daisy.

He played with the harder plastic of the first hand replacement model Fitz had given him. He felt nearly as useless as he did then. “I’d like this to be a quick extraction. No muss, no fuss.”

Daisy tilted her head. “Of course. Ideally, I’d just want to send one of the containment pods. But with no recon info back yet, I’m not optimistic.”

“And we need to give Hunter and Bobbi enough time to get the intel without alerting suspicions.” Mack crossed his arms over his chest. “Cover of night is the best to bring the Zephyr in to be on standby.”

“And I should be able to work on Jemma’s location for pick up after we get Fitz back.”

Coulson nodded. “Keep me apprised.”

* * *

"You are quite fortunate, Dr. Jackson. We would like to adjust the parameters of our deal. You deliver both the boy and Dr. Smith. Successful completion of this transaction will persuade my employer to expand his offer to also include your friend, as well as a substantial financial and status bonus."

Dr. Jackson blinked, sure that there was a catch involved here. This was literally everything he could want and then some. Jackson frowned, peering at his captive, now questioning what made that whole blasted family so special. “The boy is far more of a challenge than we anticipated. Transporting him is quite risky."

"That will not be an issue. I am fully capable of dealing with him." Giyera commanded, "Give me your location, and we will come collect them both. Just be sure he has been handcuffed with metal cuffs at the drop. Same for the father."

* * *

Leonard was fully aware of the weight of Jemma's eyes upon him. She wanted answers and she wanted them now. Quite frankly, she deserved them. He did have much to explain and cover, but was still unsure of who he could trust. Especially considering it had been someone in this very building that had taken Leo in the first place. Avery seemed like a likely ally, yet he was reluctant to trust his gut right now. In the past he hadn't always been the best judge of character and he couldn't afford to do so again here and now where the stakes were so high.

“Jemma.” He started holding up his hands.

She advanced on him as soon as the door was shut, her fury barely restrained by her clenched fists and jaw. “Oh, no.  You don’t get to talk yet.  What on earth have you done? You can’t possibly think that was necessary.”

“Unfortunately, it was. The Commander was...difficult. Far more so than I originally expected, I had to press the terms of my agreement with specific regard to familial relations. There was a bit of a loophole there, and I had to press the advantage to get you out of a holding cell to help me out while you are here.

Jemma, I know you are angry with me, and you have every right. But Leo needs to understand this, and this might be the only time the walls actually don’t have ears.” Leonard leaned back into the chair, trying to collect himself. He had lived with the whole of the situation for so long, it had become second nature. But to the uninitiated, he’d have to start from the beginning.

* * *

Jemma grit her teeth, crossing her arms as she leaned back into the cushy office chair. She had to remind herself this was all in service of getting Fitz back, which worth the relative inconvenience on her part. “Go on.”

“When I was nearing the end of high school, there was this massive event. It was on the news every night. And it would have faded into my memory except for two things. The first was that these were something alien, something far larger and more shocking than the Chitauri attack on New York. Gigantic, thousand foot tall robots blocking out all light from the sky.”

Jemma narrowed her eyes in disbelief. “How is that even possible?” History wasn’t her forte, but surely that would have been Shield 101 level coursework.

Leonard half-smiled, dragging his hand over the scruff at his jaw. “I was just getting to that. The second was that all record of their visit was gone. News agencies recopied over tapes. Nearly every newspaper copy was in shambles or were outright replaced. But more disturbing was that fact that life had proceeded on unchanged for everyone else but me. No one else except my mother remembered their visit, but it was something that could and very well might have led to the extinction of Earth.

I thought I was going crazy, and some of the neighbors already thought my mother was. She told me to keep it quiet. That someone had to have made a deal or the giants would never have left, and that the giants probably assumed they had wiped everyone’s memories. Talking about it would only put everything at risk again. I swore to her that I’d try to forget.”

Jemma gaped. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I went to college a few years later, and found evidence that it wasn’t the first time they had come. I found evidence of it in cave paintings and in renaissance texts. It made me question what we were taught in those respects. What’s more, it made me question who I was. Why were my mother and I able to remember where no else did?”

Jemma’s eyes followed him as he began to pace the room, growing more agitated. “I dove into my studies headfirst, focused on gaining a better overall historical understanding and funding for what I had come to consider my pet project. I collaborated all over the world, searching for as many hints as I could find. I published the more standard fare article, but I kept my journal of my real findings under lock and key in my office. While I was getting my doctorate, I met Mary at the University, and we were wed a few years later. It wasn’t until Leo was nearly five that it became an issue.

One of my assistants was working on his dissertation. He came in over one weekend while we were on holiday. He must have seen me scribbling in that journal and his curiosity got the better of him. I hadn’t noticed anything until months later when he had already published some of the findings. I filed a general complaint of plagiarism, but within a week of that publication, he had gone missing.”

Leonard stopped at the lab bench, trying to collect himself. “Not two weeks later, I was on a plane to Columbia to evaluate some Incan artifacts, and the plane went down. I was terrified and, quite frankly, shocked to have survived. The woman in the next seat was not so lucky. I didn’t give them my real name with the medical support came, but was lucky enough to meet Fury on a chance meeting outside the US embassy. He had been stationed in the country and had come back to the SHIELD facility there to collaborate with his colleagues there.

Fury agreed to help protect me and my family. But there were always caveats. Shield would help cover Leo’s school costs, because Mary would always be too proud to take the money directly. I had a “great aunt” who died and passed a nice lump sum on to them. But I had to go into hiding. Pretend to have perished in that crash. Shield sent a team into the house when Mary and Leo were out and tossed my office area at the house and at the university, to make it look as though any research of value was already gone.”

If not for the the sum of her time with Shield, this might have seemed fantastical. Jemma breathed, collecting her thoughts and mulling over what answers Fitz might want. “What sort of research were you doing?”

The tension in the room had suddenly dissipated, and Leonard was suddenly all eagerness. He pulled his phone out, engaging the biometric lock. “A synthesis of history and biology. You know the genomic mapping technologies and proteomics have improved by leaps and bounds in the last few decades. I’ve been waiting for the science to catch up to my ambitions. Looking into the areas where this unusual high variation may prevail according to the historical and prehistoric record. Can we use the technologies with known powers to determine likely genetic marker and ancestral data? I’ve been looking far, far back into both history and mythology.”

Jemma frowned, distaste clear in her voice. “Mythology?”

He smiled, swiping through a series of images of the mythological figures. “When you start to question as much as I have, you start to wonder if there was not nearly as much literary license as modern day scholars now suspect. That the Gods and Monsters of lore might, in fact, have been very real. As homo sapiens or as some near phylogenetic cousin with a particularly active or activated set of mutations resulting in a changed appearance or increased capabilities with power to be feared or revered. Someone's incredibly long scientific experiment that has been driving the course of human history and evolution. It has been humanity’s fear of the other that has either driven these “others” into hiding or extinction.”

“So you’ve been looking for what exactly? A source of DNA to prove the powers.”

“Avery and her biochem crew have been running samples in between their other projects. One of their earlier projects was sequencing a genome to find the disparate markers, and to puzzle out the protein products. What they don’t know is that the DNA source is actually--”

Frowning at the interruption, Leonard reached for the vibrating cell phone in his pocket. His gaze shuttered as he pulled up an image on the screen.

“What is it?” she whispered, concerned etched into her eyes. She felt the panic welling as what little color Leonard had in his face drained away.

Pressing a few buttons with shaky fingers, he placed his phone into her hands. A strangled cry slipped past Jemma's lips and she made no move to stop the tears that welled. She had spent months on Maveth staring at his picture on a phone screen for comfort and this brought her anything but. Fitz glared defiantly back at the camera though Jemma could see in an instant he was physically and emotionally exhausted. A series of fresh cuts and bruises littered his face and arms. “You have six hours left. Delay and the boy will pay. We are watching you.”

Jemma watched as a mask slipped over Leonard face, the same mask of fire and determination Fitz would get when he made up his mind about something. "Tell Avery whatever you must to get her help. You are the only soul in this building I trust right now. We don’t have anymore time to spare trying to find allies.”

* * *

May shut her eyes. She and Maria had spent the remainder of the morning sequestered in this small office running the search simulation without progress. Even with Maria cross-referencing and prioritizing Fury’s known hidden bases, there was little they could both do but wait.

There had to be some sign of Fury out there that facial recognition could pick up. But with the current political climate skewed against Shield, Stark’s international network surpassed Shield’s present capabilities in both speed and scope. There was certainly some irony in allowing better access for private corporation with a history of weapons sales as compared to an international cooperative agency with tarnished reputation.

Maria stood up, rubbing her shoulders. “Let’s go and grab lunch. The front desk and security will be monitoring your building entrance and exit times. It’s best if we both appear to be keeping normal business hours.”

May adjusted her jacket, as she stood, falling in lockstep with Maria as they exited the room.  
“Maria?”

Maria flinched slightly, turning to meet Pepper’s gaze. “Did you need me? We were just about to grab lunch?”

Pepper tilted her head, taking May’s measure in an instant. ”Nothing that won’t keep for an hour or so. I understand you are here for an interview?”

May smiled, projecting calm serenity to mask her growing agitation with the delay. “I ran a security firm some time ago, but I left the business for a few years to spend some time with my children.”  
Pepper smiled. “Where did your firm operate?”

May shifted subtly. “We had many offices, but I managed the Portland operation.”

“Portland?” Pepper arched a brow. “Did you ever go to the symphony there?”

“We ran security there from time to time.” May smiled. "You'd be surprised the number of stalkers they get."

* * *

“The Commander is on board with you helping out and has apprised security that you have access to roam when escorted either by myself or Dr. Smith.” Avery assured as they strode down the hallway back towards her lab.

Jemma kept pace beside her, nodding somewhat absently. She had been mulling on the best way to request help from Avery, but was still not certain just how much trust to place in her. Fitz’s father uncertainty aside, trust was a commodity in short supply outside of her own family and team. With time ticking away at an alarming rate, Jemma feared the three of them wouldn't be enough to find Fitz in time. Not to mention his captors suddenly changing the terms of the swap. Something was off and they needed more help than the commander was willing to give.

An idea suddenly came to her as she rubbed her hand over her stomach. "Do you think I might be able to call my mother? I check in periodically as part of my cover. My abduction by Hydra already threw the schedule off and they were nearly to the point of involving the authorities. I told them about the baby in the last call. Now, I’m not terribly sure how long I was out while on the plane, I promised not to miss another check in considering my current condition and all."

Avery blinked, unfazed by the request, having taught at the academy and kept up the ruse for many frazzled parents in her time. “I think it could be arranged with the Commander, although we’d have to use the untraceable line. That wouldn’t afford you much in terms of privacy as you would be monitored throughout the conversation."

Jemma smiled shakily. “That should be fine. She knows about...well, she must be quite worried since I haven’t checked in.”

* * *

Fitz paced the cell restlessly. His throat was still raw from screaming, which meant the soundproofing on the room had to be pretty good. No bystanders in the nearby street had come to his aid, and it had been a while since his captors had tossed a cold, paper bag of food into the room with him.

He had little choice but to puzzle things out silently, and save his voice in reserve in case Arnold did come back to save him. Or in case Jemma put herself at risk to protect him. These goons had already threatened her, and while they weren’t not particularly clever, he would not let her put herself at risk. Not if he could help it.

Arnold, though, was a mystery. Fitz had already spent a precious few hours with his eyes closed, taxing his memory for the slightest hint of other family members that his Mum might have mentioned. He kept coming up empty, but he wasn’t sure if that was due to a lack of those memories or to those memories permanently lost to the sea.

At least the man had been kind in all of their limited interactions, aside from arranging their kidnapping. Fitz’s fingers pressed at his temples before sliding into his short curls. Arnold said his motivation was to protect him and due to their relationship, Jemma. Worry for her gnawed at his gut again. She had only pushed aside her own instincts and trusted Arnold because of him.

* * *

Adams whistled as he carried the now cold bag of burgers back to his captive and chucked it into the room before quickly re-locking the door.

Fitz scowled at the once-sandwich now spilled as bits of egg, bacon, and toast across the floor. “That’s just unnecessary.”

"Cheer up kid. It looks like you and Daddy will get some time together after all. Assuming he is willing to come down from his ivory tower for you.”

“I thought this was supposed to be some sort of hostage exchange.”

“Turns out, our mysterious benefactor has sweetened the deal and wants you along for the ride too, so you and dad will be able to catch up." Adams trained his gaze through the glass, as Fitz picked up the sandwich. “Now. I ask myself, what would make you so special? Not just that you might be able to drag Smith down off his damned high horse. That some shadow agency with more money than God would actually want you.”

Deeming the sandwich unsalvageable, Fitz sat back on the floor, trying to keep his frustration in check. This one was definitely the weaker of his two captors, and if he understood that last bit, Hydra was not only in the picture but wanted both him and Dr. Arnold. If he was careful, he might actually get more out of Adams.

"If you think the Hydra is going to reward you, you are far more stupid than I thought." Fitz spat, crossing the room to the bulletproof glass window in the door. “The last person who kidnapped me on their behalf was murdered in a truly god forsaken place.”

Fitz paused, fixing his captor with a cold glare. "Scratch that, the last two people who have kidnapped me on Hydra's behalf have wound up dead...ironically at the hands of the same man. I'll make sure he knows where to find you too. And those two were much tougher and much smarter than you. If you were smart, you’d unlock the door and let me loose. Go into hiding. Because if you take their blood money, you won’t be alive long enough to spend it.”

A glimmer of fear passed Adams’ eye for just a moment at the mention of Hydra, before he set his jaw in determination. “Make no mistake kid, if they want you for anything, it's to keep your father in line. I looked through your personal file and that argument might have worked if you were actually worth something.”

Fitz grit his teeth. Daisy had messed with all of their personal files after the fall ensuring that no one would come looking for them, and as a result many of he and Jemma's many accomplishments with Shield and the Academy had been redacted. Moving closer to the door he felt the frustration become overwhelming. “You don’t understand--”

Adams grinned, turning on his heel and calling over his shoulder. “Enjoy the sandwich.”

  
Fitz slammed his fists against the door.

* * *

  
Bobbi and Hunter had looped around to come into town via the access road visible from the valley. A forest trail helped to cover their movements and they were surveying the small town for anything unusual, as the cloaked and now disabled jet clearly didn't belong to any of the residents. All their stealth couldn’t conceal the telltale ring of the cell phone that could easily blow their cover story.

 Her eyes widened in panic, as Bobbi tore through the outside pockets of the pack Hunter was toting. A litany of curses escaped his lips.

She expelled a quick breath as she silenced the ringer, noting the standard unknown number ID on the screen before hitting accept. One of Daisy’s techs must be calling in with an update. She prayed they had better coordinates for her.

"Mum! Thank goodness you picked up. I was starting to worry that I’d miss you.”

Bobbi blinked recognizing Jemma voice but the bubbly tone threw even her for a bit of a loop. She moved back into the tree line in to muffle the sound.. “Jemma? Are you alright? It has been a bit and I was getting worried.”

Hunter perked up and moved in so he could hear as well.

"I’m just fine, Mum. We ran into a bit of car trouble while on a day trip into the country. Some lovely people found me and took me in. They are quite good at keeping an eye on us."

Bobbi drew a quick breath, settling against a tree beside Hunter. She was having a bit of difficulty reading the situation, but clearly Jemma was being monitored, was pretending to call her family, and trying to get a message to them. She pressed her finger to her lips and hit the speakerphone button so Hunter could listen in better. Her English accents were rusty, but hopefully it would do to throw off anyone listening in. "Us? Daisy mentioned that Fitz--"

"I mean the baby and I, of course." Jemma said quickly with a laugh.

Hunter slapped his hands over his mouth, and looked like he was ready to scream with glee.  
"We are under very close observation right now, purely as a precaution. But I lost something in the commotion since our last visit. It is very dear to me and I hoped you might be able to track it down. I don’t know if you remember that sweet little lion I've had since my school days. I would love to have it still for the baby, I'm so worried that someone made off with him.”

"Who," Bobbi said trying to keep her voice light. "Would want to take that adorable little lion from you?"

Jemma sighed audibly. “I’m not sure, although I can’t help but worry. I did have a thought though. I can give you the location where I think he was...misplaced. It would be GPS coordinates, but I know you and Dad like puzzles…”

Bobbi broke in, a bit worried that Jemma might give herself away. “Don’t you worry about that one bit sweetheart, you just take care of yourself and my Grandchild. Send us whatever you can, and Dad and I will see if we can get some help with the smartphones if we’re stumped.”

Hunter started tapping her incessantly shoulder, pointing back up the trail as soon as he got her attention. A man dressed in black was heading back down towards the valley where the had left the disabled quinjet.

Bobbi narrowed her eyes, “Jemma, I need to run. Your father has misplaced his keys again. Are you sure that everything there is all right?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“We will see you soon then, Love. And we'll make sure we find your Lion for you before we do.”

Hunter tucked in closer to Bobbi in the shadows of the tree, as the man approached. He was in darker tactical gear, with a sidearm. He definitely was not in peak physical condition if his slow trudge down the hill was any indication. They watched until he ambled out of sight.

Hunter shook his head in disbelief. "When all this is over, remind me to give Fitz a hard time for managing to be kidnapped by this guy.”

Bobbi smirked, as she pressed on up the hill. "Come on, 'Dad'. We have a lion to bring home."

 


	13. Chapter 13

_Undisclosed Location_

_23 December 2015, Part II_

* * *

Malick traced a thick finger through the light condensation on the outside of his glass, as he raised the phone to his ear.  Two fingers of scotch now burned in his belly, only fortifying his resolve to bring in his quarry with undue haste.

 

“Over the past few years, Hydra has lost a substantial number of members.  Unfortunately, one of our best recruiters in decades is now housing our Inhuman deity.  Especially in terms of manpower, waste is a luxury we can no longer afford.”  

 

His right hand man coughed slightly, muffled somewhat by the static on the line.

 

“Giyera, you were a fortunate circumstance, but we cannot afford to lose any more quality personnel on the fish oil pill program without better knowledge of whether they will survive the process.  It is far easier to bring people to our way of thinking before they gain powers, or we risk losing them and their skills.  This Smith seems to have that knowledge.  If Agent Fitz is truly Smith’s relative and can be used as effective coercion, all the better.  We can certainly find a way to put his abilities to good use.”

 

Giyera raised his brows.  “And if he is uncooperative?”

 

“Then we also know his weakness.”

* * *

The sun hung high overhead as Bobbi and Hunter finally reached town.  It was little more than a main street and a row of houses that ran parallel to where the valley widened.  It must have been an old mining town that managed to still find some way survive the bust, but the design had not changed much since, aside from an ATM likely two decades old.  There were two story buildings and storefronts lining both sides of the street with barely room enough for cars parked along one.  

 

Bobbi released a cautious puff of air, thankful for her forethought on the other side of the mountain the night before.  The small size of the town would both help and hurt their reconnaissance efforts, and they’d need every advantage they could get for Fitz and Simmons’s sakes.

 

Her eyes met Hunter’s and she nodded at the storefront of a small diner.  

 

He smiled back at her, wincing at the tug of the well bruised flesh at his eye.  With a grimace, he toned back his smile slightly, before lacing his fingers through hers.  “Let’s get something to eat.” 

* * *

Dr. Smith practically sprinted into the security room Marquez usually occupied to find her lacing up her boots.  She groaned when she spotted him.  “If you are hear to yell at me at my treatment of ‘that poor girl’ in her 'delicate condition' you need to get in line.  You just missed Dr. Avery, and I’m sure a call from the Commander is coming soon.”

  
  
Smith crossed his arms, halting in front of the video console.  “I won’t bother, if you can get us out again.”

  
  
Marquez raised an eyebrow, stopping midway through her second boot to look up at him with dismay.  Had the man hit his head again?  “There is no way that Callen will let us leave.”

  
  
“Unfortunately, that is no longer an option.”

  
  
"Unfortunately,”  she countered sarcastically, “I'm with Callen on this one.  I just got you back on base safely after one instance of poor judgement.  It will be my job on the line if I help you get out again.”

 

Narrowing his eyes, Smith drew closer, whispering forcefully, “Your job won’t be any easier here.”

  
  
“What?” She snapped, her fury drawing daggers from her eyes.  Part of her job was vetting the bases personnel. Making sure they could be around her charge.

  
  
“You know someone took my son.  What you don’t seem to understand is the culprit either being someone within this facility or someone feeding information to some hired guns off site.  The Commander is already narrowing down the list of suspects."

  
  
Marquez frowned, brow furrowing in confusion.  “Why would someone here be after you?”

  
  
Smith hesitated for only a moment.  “Your guess is as good as mine.  But the demand is for myself and my research so you do the math.  You have said yourself that your job is to protect me.  If the culprit is already trying to use my son to get to me they won't stop if that fails. You can either come with me and help me get him back or let the threat remain.  Their tactics are growing even more desperate than just kidnapping my son.  If they don't get me now, I can only assume they will just slip back under the radar.  You can't keep me under 24 hours supervision due to the nature of my research, and anyone clever enough to have stayed hidden for this long is patient enough to wait for both of us to drop our guard.  Helping me save him is the only way to protect me and end this on our terms.”

  
  
Her fingers massaged her temples to soothe her growing tension headache.  She couldn't disagree with the logic nor could she risk him going on his own.  “Alright, alright.  I’ll go.  I’m sure you’ll just become even more difficult to deal with if anything were to happen to him.”

* * *

Jemma set the secure phone back on the receiver, biting her lip.  There were few people she trusted more than Bobbi, but there were far too many unanswered questions.  There were too many unknowns involved within this organization.  Did they have powered people as well? Were their field technology capabilities on par with Shield’s?

  
  
“A lion?”  

  
  
Jumping slightly, Jemma turned around to see Dr. Avery was regarding her with crossed arms.  “Anyone I may know?  Let me guess his name is Leo?"

 

Jemma swallowed heavily, her eyes darting to all corners of the room to ensure it was clear.  “Yes.  Dr. Smith got a message threatening Fitz’s safety and moving up the timetable.”  She bit her lip thoughtfully.  “I wasn't sure the best way to ferry the message out.”

 

Avery frowned.  “You didn't think to ask me to help?”

 

“I did.  It is just--Dr. Smith is not sure who to trust.  One of the details in one of the demands could only come from someone with personal knowledge here.  Knowledge of his work, knowledge that he and Fitz were related.  He was more suspicious of anyone more familiar with his work directly.”  Jemma frowned, stumbling as she tried to find the right words.  “He is trusting my judgment.  I think he is still hesitant, but we are out of time and out of options.”

 

Avery tilted her head.  “But not out of support.  I know quite a few of the chemists downstairs with something of a crush on Dr. Smith.  I think they can be persuaded to lend us something a bit more helpful in a pinch.”

 

Jemma blinked.  ”Us?”

 

Avery smiled.  “I’ve just found two of my most clever students.  There is no way I’m losing track of your brilliant minds, especially when the capability to collaborate might well be back on the table very soon.”

 

Jemma swallowed back against the lump forming at her throat.

 

“Now, come on,” Avery ordered, blazing a trail towards the door.  “You said we don’t have much time.” 

* * *

Garland trimmed with red ribbons stretched to all corners of the restaurant.  Not a single booth or counter space was safe.  Bobbi raised a brow, steering Hunter towards the tamest booth she could find.

 

Barely a minute after they had settled into one of the empty booths, a matronly waitress brought two glasses of ice water out to the table.

 

Bobbi accepted the glass with a tired smile and a nod. Hunter was slumped against the table on the other seat.  Bobbi tapped his foot, and his head shot up.  “I’m up. I’m up.” he groaned.

 

“That’s a nasty shiner,” the waitress tutted, handing him the glass.

 

Grabbing it greedily, he moved it immediately up to his eye, hissing at the mix of cold and relief.  

 

Watching him with the a frown, Bobbi turned to the waitress.  “You wouldn’t happen to have a ice pack he could use, would you?”

 

“I’m sure I could scrounge something from the back.”  The waitress set menus and a straws down on the table.

 

“That would be wonderful.  We’ve already had a long night, and that pharmacy down the way hasn’t opened yet.”

 

“That bruise is pretty fresh.”  The waitress eyed the edges of the bruise nosily, tugging a loose ashen blond strand back behind her ear.  “Did you get into a fight at the bar last night?  I’m surprised the sheriff would turn you loose so early.”

 

Bobbi shook her head in earnest.  “We got carjacked down in the valley below.  Spent the night hiking up to the only civilization we could see in the distance.”

 

“Oh you poor things.”  She gushed, immediately contrite.  “Let me get that ice pack and you two look over the menus.”

 

Bobbi smiled sweetly as she watched the waitress go back through the kitchen door, before poring over the menu.  Absently, she picked up the straw in one hand, flipping it through her fingers.  “What do you think you’ll need?”

 

“Aside from caffeine?  And a nap?  And a beer?”  Hunter grumbled.  “Not necessarily in that order.”

 

“Unfortunately, that is not on the menu.”  Bobbi quipped, not quite meeting his eyes before hers snapped back to the page.  “We’ve got company incoming.  You want your usual.”

 

Hunter nodded, looking over his shoulder towards the entrance with his good eye.

 

Practically on queue, the chimes clinked musically, heralding the arrival of the lunch crowd.   

 

Bobbi placed her hand out on the table, reaching for his.  He grasped it with his free hand and gave it a squeeze.  Her smile reached her eyes, as she feigned shyness to monitor the room.  

 

She took in the few men in shirts and ties, who had sidled up to the counter, actively perusing the menu or a newspaper.  A table of teenagers from the local school, hollered just as loudly as the table of utility workers that sat beside them.  This lot was remarkably unremarkable.  No one was rough around the edges.  No one was giving off the cold-hearted vibe.

 

Bobbi sighed as she closed the menu, tapping her thumb against Hunter’s wrist in code.  They would need to stay here for a while.  At least they’d made a bit of headway with the nosy waitress and she was liable to let them be as they waited for 'assistance'.  If they were lucky, she might be inclined to gossip if anyone suspicious had come in recently.

 

For the moment, they could only hope the kidnapper would be ready for lunch here soon. 

* * *

“I’ll be damned.”  Maria Hill gaped at the screen, showing not just one, but three probable images of Fury.  With his eye patch, Fury’s face was distinctive.  But without it, success had only happened with their combined knowledge, Agent Johnson’s algorithm, and and Stark's processing power, which had accomplished what she had been attempting for years.

 

“Save that for another day,” May smiled, slightly raising an eyebrow as she scrolled through the location listing.  “We still have to figure out which one is the real deal.”

 

Maria nodded.   “And tail each one until we confirm his current whereabouts.”

 

“With just the two of us.”

 

“Right,” Maria quipped.  “It really isn’t even fair odds for him.”

* * *

Still wheezing from the long trudge back down to the valley, Dr. Jackson was finally back to their quinjet.   His fingers slid along the tail, until he found the button to deploy the ramp.  

  
  
Swiping his brow, he stomped up the ramp.  He needed a few things, more than just the cuffs Mr. Giyera requested if the swap was going to succeed. He never spent much time analyzing the inside of these quinjets.  They were more a travel conveyance when one needed to get off the island.  The field pack kits anchored to the walls might actually prove invaluable.   

 

  
It had clearly been a mistake to underestimate Smith’s son.  It was an error that would be remedied shortly, but in the meanwhile, he meant to survive the impending encounter.

  
  
He didn’t know how much he could trust this Mr. Giyera.  The only one he truly could depend on was himself.  Tugging a box open greedily, he spilled a mess of bulletproof vests and flight suits out onto the floor.  He grabbed one of the vests from the pile, before scanning the room for any others.  There had to be some sort of weapons stored on board.

* * *

Jemma and Dr. Avery whisked back to the medical bay in silence to re-pack the gear retrieved from Avery’s colleagues and discuss the plan freely.

 

Avery bumped the badge at her hip against the reader until the green light flashed and the door buzzed open.  Jemma was only a few steps behind her, as each took a brief circuit of the room to confirm they were alone.

  
  
“I can’t help but think that Hydra must be involved.  I have never seen them do anything by half measures.”  Jemma balled her hands into fists, trying to control the tremble that was building.  Hydra getting their hands on Fitz again making this so much worse.  “They have been trying to and successfully created Inhumans.  I very much fear that they might send one of their Inhuman soldiers.  Bobbi would certainly go in prepared, but--”

  
  
Eyebrow furrowing, Avery frowned.  She paused in micropipetting a small array of samples.  “Inhumans?  We haven’t heard much more than what they’ve been saying on the news.  You must have been getting much more detailed information.”

  
  
Jemma tried to collect herself, applying herself to labeling up another batch of tubes..  “Our missions have required it.  We do know these are humans with bits of Kree DNA seeded at key points.  They don’t even disrupt aspects of what anyone else would recognize as human, except in a handful of circumstances.  When they are activated by a very specific catalyst, these sites are massively and nearly instantaneously modifying the base genetics.  It has been ridiculous to track, as each individual has different sites, and seems to gain very different powers.”

  
  
Avery stopped again, her eyes sparked with a mix of horrified fascination.  “And the catalyst?”

  
  
“A crystal containing an alien metal.  Humans have not been exposed to it except by choice until recently.  An Inhuman bent on world domination in order to create a safe haven for other Inhumans tried to dump a large volume into the ecosystem.  Mixing the metal into the ecosystem caused a gradual accumulation of the metal into humans who consumed the exposed marine life, causing the recent surge in Inhuman activity that brought the ACTU into the mix.  Unfortunately, Hydra had spies within the agency and was taking advantage of their collection efforts to turn their soldiers into super soldiers.”

  
  
Avery’s fingers rapped along the lab bench, as she scanned the the contributions to their field test.  “We know of the Kree, although our information on any of their dealings here on earth is limited.  We’ve been focusing mostly on understanding and reverse engineering the weapons.”

  
  
Jemma sighed.  “When has compartmentalizing information really helped our agency?  Although to be honest, I’m not sure the Director even knows this place is on the map.”

 

Avery beamed.  “I really am so pleased at the prospect of working together again.  Cooperation could only help both agencies.  We’ve been focusing more heavily on longer range weaponry.  But in a true threat situation, we will need better capabilities on the ground.  And no other government agency is really appropriately equipped, outside of Shield and the ACTU.”

 

“All the while, still trying to police our own ethics within each agency.”  Jemma shed her gloves, pressing her fingertips to her forehead.  “The bureaucracy was at times problematic, but at least the intent to protect was clearly there.  Now, we have to self-police both the ethics and the security.”

 

Avery blew out a breath.  “It is much the same here.  I only brought you around to those scientists, I know to be operating above board.  There are plenty of others who methods and motives are suspect at best.  We lock up our labs and work.  Aside from trials like this, it is usually only released when the work goes upstairs.”

 

“To the commander?”

 

Avery smirked.  “Yes, but not to the one you’ve met.”  

 

Nose scrunched up in confusion, Jemma shook her head.  She was curious, but these were questions for another time, when Fitz wasn’t in mortal danger.   Every minute wasted was a minute he didn't have.

  
  
Avery must have seen the emotions telegraphed on her face and offered a small supportive smile.  “Let’s see what we are working with.  What sort of powers are we looking to nullify if it is Hydra?”

  
  
“We know of one Inhuman for certain, with a telekinetic ability to move and manipulate metal objects.”  Jemma was unable to contain the shudder as the memories of Giyera forced their way back to the surface.

   
  
“We do have a slight variant of your dendrotoxin here,” Avery mused, “but I suspect we need to make one more stop to Dr. Rodgers lab.  He’s been working on a way to break down Asgardian metals to level the playing field.  Perhaps it might be useful in taking out this Inhuman’s ammo so to speak.”

 

Jemma bit her lip.  The metallurgy lab sounded equal parts promising and concerning.  The Asgardians were allies, after all.  “I’m not sure how well the dendrotoxin might work on Inhumans.  Particularly those with strength have been able to power through the sedative effects.  And not all of them were technically Inhumans.”

 

Avery started packing.  “I’m not sure how much other good help we’ll be able to get outside of Rogers.  And I’m sure Dr. Smith is working to make arrangements in the hangar bay.  We can discuss some of the other samples on the plane.”

 

“We?  You’re not--”

 

“Coming with?  I certainly am.”  Avery raised an eyebrow.  "I have quite a bit of incentive to see you both through this safely, especially considering your little bundle of joy.  Even in these early weeks, you are in far too delicate a condition to be gallivanting about without a proper doctor.  Besides, I don't want to be around when Commander Callen finds us all missing."

* * *

Gasping as the cold hit his tender skin, Hunter pressed the bag of frozen peas over his bad eye.  The dull ache had already started to sharpen, and he was anxious for the cold to kick in and numb the pain.  He could already tell that he would have one helluva bruise for months.  His pugnacious ex-wife definitely owed him for that little trick.

  
The waitress perched on hand at her hip.  “You know.  I do have a room upstairs for the occasional tourist help.  If you don’t mind a bit of dust, you could rest up and call AAA.”  

 

Bobbi has plastered on a smile, clearly desperate to stave off any grumbling from his end of the table.  She must not have noticed that he was really in too much pain to care.  The accommodations clearly were not meant to be modern, no matter where they bided their time.

 

“I suppose we should stop in and make a police report with the Sheriff as well.  If you could give directions, we’ll head straight there after we finish our meal.”

 

The waitress nodded sagely.  “We’re just about done with the lunch rush.  If the Sheriff pops in, I’ll point him in your direction.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Smiling, the waitress dropped off the check to Hunter.  “I’ll come back around and grab that for you in a few minutes.”

 

Hunter managed a half smile at the waitress.

 

Once the older woman turned her attention back to the counter, his eyes slipped back to Bobbi.   

 

She was facing the door and her expression shifted, almost imperceptibly.  Were it anyone else, they might not even notice her odd behavior.  Her back stiffened, as she furiously rifled into her bag and frowned when she came up apparently empty.  Voice rising, she stage-whispered loudly to him.  “If you can see well enough to dig into your bag, would you grab my phone, dear?  I’d like to see if we are getting signal up this high.  I’m sure your Mom is waiting for us to check in.”

 

Hunter blinked pointedly with his good eye, noting as Bobbi leaned forward slightly under the table.  He tossed his pack onto the mostly cleared table and rifled as loudly as he could.

 

He dared to peer over at the waitress for a moment, who had occupied the register with a man likely a few years older than him and dressed entirely in black.  He was typing actively on his phone while the waitress rang up the order.  Taking a few dollars, she handed him a greasy takeout bag with a surprisingly schoolgirl smile.

 

Hunter busied his hands again with rifling quietly, listening in as subtly as he could manage.  

 

Being garbed all in black on its own wouldn’t be suspicious, but next to no one was grabbing take away and that seemed like food for more than just himself.

 

“Hope you enjoy them now.”

 

He smiled, likely pandering to the older woman. “I should hope so.  The burgers tasted just like my Mom  always used to make.”

 

“How much longer will you and your friend be in town?”

 

“Oh perhaps a few more days.  It depends when he thinks everything will be ready for the sale, and when the potential buyer has made it into town.”  He lifted the bag with a tighter smile than perhaps necessary.  “And speaking of my friend, I’d best get back to him.”

 

“Of course, dear.”  The waitress couldn’t quite keep the bit of sadness from her voice, as the door chimed open at his exit.

 

Hunter located the phone with his free hand, sliding it over to Bobbi before working to re-stow the gear.  She had been paying the conversation just as much attention, and now smiled like the cat that got the cream.

 

With a blink, Bobbi’s demeanor changed again, falsely sweet and pleasant.  Waving, she asked the waitress for the check with a promise to be back to borrow that room after they filed the police report.

* * *

Jackson whistled gleefully as we walked through the door, spinning the one set of the cuffs around his finger.  Father and son were both a thorn in his side, and he anticipated a great deal of schadenfreude in the offing.  Starting with trussing up Smith’s son like a Christmas turkey.

 

Damned if Adams wasn’t out again.  For a man as short as he was, he was constantly eating.  If they were hiding out in a more populated location, that could go mostly unremarked.  But the man kept insisting to frequent the sole diner in town.  Someone was bound to get suspicious if they had to stay here much longer.

 

He peeked at the video feeds.  Junior seemed to be napping for the moment, so he had a free moment to adjust the bulletproof vest.  It was surprisingly warm under his clothing, but the temporary discomfort was worth the security in getting through all this unscathed, just in case Smith got any clever ideas to arm himself.  He didn’t bother to grab the other vest for Adams.  The man was well trained enough to drop Smith’s pistol with the the extra ammo he’d brought along.  It was only too bad they were almost out of the knock out drug, but soon both would be out of his hands and into Hydra’s.

 

After a few minutes of blessed silence, Adams had returned.  “I’ve got another round of burgers from the diner.”

 

Jackson rolled his eyes, bracing for another now cold burger.  His arteries demanded they leave as soon as possible.  “We’ll need to knock him out again.  The client wants him in cuffs for pick up.”

 

Adams tapped the screen with a fingernail.  “Looks like he’s already asleep.”

“Do you really want to make that assumption?  He’s at least clever enough to have gotten past you once.”  Jackson grumbled.  “Or do you want to be the one to explain to Hydra that you lost their bargaining chip?”  

 

“Point made,” Adams conceded, noisily biting into his burger.  “But it doesn’t mean I can’t play with him first.”

* * *

Bobbi and Hunter had trailed the stranger as best they could, considering the waitress took nearly as long as possible to get them the check.  They at least knew which end of town Fitz must be being kept, but they lost him in a row of houses up along the mountain.

 

Bobbi blew an errant strand out from in front of her eyes.  “We need to get to someplace private and call in to Mack.  I want to make sure they are in position for quick extraction support.”

 

Glancing along the street, Hunter grimaced at the relative lack of options.  Heading back to the nosy waitress was likely only good option.  “There is next to nowhere that the pod could be dropped and out of sight.”

 

She shrugged.  “We’ll need to pull the action down the trail into the valley.  There were at least a few points that were flat enough for the pod to be loaded.”

 

“Which assumes we can get Fitz away in a hurry.  We now know there are two captors.  What if there are actually more?”

 

“We can handle two.”

 

Hunter raises his brows, wincing again.   “I don’t know if you know this or not, but I am definitely not at 100%.  Not the least of which was because you threw a punch at me.”

 

Bobbi glared at him, but the sting was tempered by the hint of mirth in her eyes as she cracked open the sat phone.

 

Mack’s voice rumbled over the line.  “Where have you been?  You missed your check in.”

 

Voice level and dead calm, Bobbi assured him.  “Once we got on the ground, we located a quinjet.”

 

Daisy jumped in over the background.  “A quinjet?”  

 

“We disabled it,”  Bobbi clarified.  “It must have been one of Shield’s older models, not very different than the one the impostor Doctor arrived in.”

 

“You would have had to disable it from the inside, right?”  Daisy pressed eagerly.  “Did you happen to get the serial number?”

 

Bobbi pulled the smartphone from her pocket, and rattled off the code.

 

“Are you alright otherwise?”  Mack questioned.

 

“Fine.  Although Hunter got a minor injury.”

 

“Oi!”

 

“From me,” she gloated, before turning serious.  “We have another lead we are following up on now that might give us Fitz’s location.”

 

Daisy chimed in again.  “We should be in position overhead within the half hour.”

 

“There is an awful lot of ground to cover and not a lot of covered space to drop the pod and pick Fitz up once we locate him.”

 

The sound of typing could barely be heard in the background.  Mack inquired.  “Alright, Bobbi.  Where were you thinking?”

* * *

Fitz’s stomach rumbled angrily, but he could do little more than fling his arm over his eyes.  If he couldn’t eat the sandwich that heathen had slopped onto the messy floor, he could at least conserve his energy.  What the hell was Hydra’s problem with sandwiches?

 

They way his captors were talking, an exchange was due to happen within a few hours.  He would need his meager energy and his wits to outmaneuver these two once they unlocked the doors.  He still had his kit hidden away in the heel of his shoe.  

 

Not that he could get to it without issues.   After his escape, they had patted him down and came up empty.  He knew they at least had one pinhole camera, but he couldn’t tell exactly how much they were monitoring him or exactly when the camera could pick up footage.  He couldn’t risk what might be his sole remaining advantage on an escape attempt into a fairly empty town.

 

The battery life on the GPS was very much in question.  It had been on continuously since he had been taken, exactly however long ago that was.  Even if he could get out right now, incapacitate his two captors who did have weapons, and make a run for it, he didn’t know where he was.  He didn’t know whether or not Jemma was safe.  He didn’t know if help was coming.

 

The Fitz Army Knife was definitely due for a massive overhaul once they got back to base.  He could only hope that Jemma’s kit had kept her safe.  At least she had already had her guard up with Dr. Arnold before he was taken.

* * *

“Director.” Daisy’s face flashed up onto the screen in his office.  One of the newer communications officers was in assisting.

 

Coulson’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.  Waiting was always the worst part of this job.  “What have you got for me, Daisy?”

 

“A serial number for what we think is a Shield Quinjet that we must have lost track of in the fall.  I’ve run it through our system and I’m coming up empty.  As best I can tell, it shouldn’t exist.”

 

“Fire it off to Billy Koenig and see what he might be able to do with it.”

* * *

The door was hauled open with little warning, revealing both Adams and Jackson.  

 

Adams approached the bed with a sneer and a another greasy takeout bag. He towered over Fitz, dropping the bag onto his stomach.  “Present for you.”

 

Fitz groaned as he didn’t quite anticipate the full weight.  He ripped the bag open, and tried not to cry as the aroma hit him full force.  He was ravenous, tearing hungrily into the wrapper and took a few desperate bites.

 

Jackson had backed himself against the door.  “We found some strangers in town.  A man and a woman who looked to have hiked up the mountain.”

 

Fitz’s eyes widened slightly, wondering if Jemma was possibly here.  If so, he absolutely couldn’t show any recognition.  He wouldn’t dare risk putting her in anymore danger.

 

Adams tugged his phone from his pocket, bringing up a picture of Bobbi and Hunter sitting in a restaurant booth.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief he didn’t know he had been holding, Fitz slumped back against the wall, taking another few bites.  He didn’t dare to mentally process what them being here meant for fear it might blow their cover.  “Not anyone I know.”

 

Both men still watched him suspiciously, as he finished off the burger defiantly.  

 

Adams replaced the phone in his pocket, standing back over him at full height.  “It won’t matter soon anyways.  Hydra will be sending their extra manpower.  If what you kept saying is true, it won’t matter whether or not you have friends here.  If they get in their way, those strangers won’t live long enough to make a difference.”

 

Fitz practically growled in offense, his fists already shaking with quiet rage.  It didn’t look like many people lived here, but they certainly didn’t deserve this.  But a niggling remnant of suspicion danced at the back of his mind.  “Why are you even telling me this?”  

 

Jackson’s grin was pure malice.  “Because in just a few moments you won’t be able to fight back.  The compound should already be taking effect.”

 

Fitz’s eyes widened, before he dared to kick out at Adams’s knees.  The man groaned, hitting the ground with a satisfying thump.  He was desperate to fight back, to even the playing field and warn Bobbi and Hunter, but the drowsiness hit him as he stood.

 

He was barely to the door before he too toppled to the ground.

* * *

Giyera was understandably less than impressed with these two new recruits.  But there was too much riding on the potential solutions for Malick to allow the whole deal to go sideways.

 

His phone floated into his hand from where it rested on the console.  He still had to dial the phone manually.  His powers were typically a delight, but it was occasionally inconvenient that he only seemed to be able to move metal.

 

“Hello, Dr. Jackson.”

 

“Mr. Giyera!  The younger Mr. Smith is currently incapacitated and cuffed as requested.”

 

“And the meet up location?”

 

Jackson hesitated.  “May yet be a problem  My associate found a pair of strangers in town this morning.  We could not tell for certain if the young man recognized the picture we took.  Neither of us was trained in interrogations.”

 

“Send it to me.”  Giyera ordered.

 

Jackson must have been prepared.  “You should have it in a moment.”

 

  
His phone chirped, and Giyera pulled the unit from his ear to open the attachment.  He smiled as he recognized the blonde.  “You will definitely have issues.  We must revise the plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following this effort thus far. I can't adequately express how much I really appreciated all of your kudos and comments and messages on Tumblr. 
> 
> We are finally in the home stretch with only a few more chapters left!
> 
> Follow me at overworkedunderwhelmed on Tumblr for periodic fic updates.


	14. Chapter 14

_Undisclosed Location_

_23 December 2015, Part III_

* * *

Jemma and Dr. Avery walked down the hallway slow enough to not draw attention, but fast enough to get to the hangar bay with all the possible haste their loaded packs allowed.  They didn’t dare stop until they reached the access door.

Avery carded the door, expelling a sigh of relief when the light flashed green.  She peeked in to confirm the coast was clear before lightly tugging Jemma’s arm forward.

The hangar bay was surprisingly quiet.  The only obvious sign of recent activity was to their left, where a few empty pallets leaned against the wall.

Jemma frowned.  She’d expected Leonard to meet her near the door, or barring that, at least to provide clearer directions as to which plane he’d selected for the rendezvous.  

It was oddly nostalgic, seeing a full hangar like this. But the quinjets were subtly different.  Perhaps they were older models, decommissioned from Shield’s assets.  She wished, not for the first time, that Fitz were here too to see all this.  He’d know the nuances of the specs far better than she had bothered to retain.

“Jemma.”  Avery’s voice pulled her mind back into focus.  

Avery stood behind a pallet of boxes, gesturing for her to follow.  

“I think we don’t have too much time.  Someone will be up to move to these boxes off to the mess hall quite soon.”  Avery peeked over the top.  “You should try to message Dr. Smith again.”

Jemma nodded as her fingers flew furiously across the keypad, telling Leonard of their location and asking for better information on where to go.  Pressing send, she and Avery ducked back down out of sight.

They sit anxiously waiting for a few minutes, alternatively watching the phone and checking for any unexpected company.  Until finally, “SMITH” appears on her phone with instructions to watch for the dropping ramp on the right side.

Jemma let herself breathe as a ramp some fifty feet away descended right on queue.  She re-adjusted her pack and headed off with Avery right on her heels.

* * *

Smith was walking down the ramp towards them, hand proffered to help with anyone’s pack.  “Need any help?”

Jemma sped past.  “Let’s just get moving.”

Leonard squinted at Dr. Avery as she marched up the ramp, unsure just what to make of their fourth wheel. 

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to process it.  

The bay door slid open with a hiss, revealing the Commander and a handful of armed guards, who took up position on at her side.

The Commander took quick stock of the quinjet in the final preparation stages for departure and the intended passengers.  “Dr. Smith, you are well aware that you have not been granted permission to leave the base after your last trip.  Neither has your guest for that matter.”

Leonard placed himself in front of Jemma, shielding her from the weapons pointed at them.   "Please," he begged, his blue eyes shimmering.  "You must let me save my son."  

The guards flinched, a sure sign that the shock of his admission had broken through a portion of their otherwise rigorous training.  He’d made a point to stay private all these years to keep his family protected.

"I gave up a life with him to keep him safe, please don't let all those years go to waste.  Let me be the father he needs me to be right now."   Instead of the Commander, he appealed to his long time colleagues.     
  
"Jennings, what would you do if you were me?   What would you do if they had your Addie?   Or Johnson, what would you do if it was your twin nieces?"

He could see he'd struck a cord, as a few in the group lowered their weapons, if only a fraction of an inch.   He glanced back at Jemma, who was blinking back tears in her eyes. He shot her a pointed look and she moved her hands towards her stomach even as she strapped in.  "If not for me, do it for her, for their baby.  Don't let that child grow up without his father because of paranoia and greed.

I joined here because my research made me dangerous for the world at large.  I left my son and his mother to protect them.”  He hesitated briefly, clearing the lump of guilt.   “I put my faith in this agency well over a decade ago and have been diligently working to the mission ever since.  However, the security here has been compromised somehow, and now he is directly at risk.” 

The Commander scowled back at him.  “We discussed this.  This is not a SWORD mission.  We cannot afford to lose your research.”  She looked pointedly back at Jemma.  “Or Dr. Avery’s for that matter.”

“Which is why this is a rescue mission,” he countered.  “I fully intend to come back once my son is safe.  But it is my name on the hostage exchange.  We can’t very well set a trap without the appropriate bait.”

Callen set her jaw, nodding to her gunman.  “We can’t allow you to sacrifice yourself in what amounts to be a suicide mission.  Your research is far too valuable.”

Leonard felt the sharp stab of betrayal, as Jennings and Johnson trained their pistols back up to his chest.  He opened his mouth to try to appeal to them again, but was startled by an odd sound and a sudden burst of gas that sent Callen and her goons into a coughing fit.

A hand came up and covered his face, jerking him back from the ramp forcefully as it started to close, the hum of the engines rumbling beneath their feet.

“Get strapped in,” Jemma shouted.  

Avery coughed through the cloth covering her face, racing back to the seats beside Jemma. 

Leonard blinked only a moment but was half strapped in as the plane lurched forward.  

Avery raised an unapologetic brow.  “Marquez said she’d get us out in a hurry.  I told her we only had a minute or two to move before the visibility cleared.”

Jemma smiled.  “It seems like that unit was effective.”

Avery chuckled.  “Yes.  It’s just too bad we can’t stick around and monitor the effects.  Also, it was the only one I brought.”

Leonard finally pulled the belt tight before asking, “Why?”

“Callen wasn’t listening to reason.”  Avery stated matter of factly.  “Besides, you don’t really have the time to waste.”

“Wait.”  Leonard was suddenly anxious.  “Once the visibility clears, they will be right on our tail.”

Marquez’s voice buzzed over the speaker.  “Already took care of the rest of the jets in the hangar while you were puttering around the base.”

* * *

Avery and Leonard were hard at work, assembling a litany of old school communication headsets and an assortment of dispersal units that looked like a combination of a grenade and--oddly--a pokeball.  Once Avery set the chemical in place and depressed the first button, the unit would be primed to aerosolize the contained compound 10 seconds after an external pin was removed.

They were simple and effective, but lacked the elegance to which Jemma had grown so accustomed while working with Fitz.

Shifting in her seat, Jemma reached inside her bag for her phone.  She desperately needed to be productive for her own sanity and there was only so much space at the small table.  

Avery paused in reaching for an empty dispersal unit and looked up as Jemma started to dial.  Without a word, she situated the containers that were ready and labelled into the case and moved towards the cockpit.  She only glanced back over her shoulder for a moment.  “I’m going to sit with Marquez for a bit.”

Jemma sat straight up in the seat, bouncing her foot anxiously and waiting for the call to connect.

“Jemma?”  The familiar voice at the other end of the line brought a wave of relief she didn’t know she needed.

“Mack,” she half-cheered.  “Where are you at?”   
  
“Sitting above the coordinates Bobbi gave us.  How are you holding up?” He asked, his voice laced with concern.    
  
“I’ll be doing better once we have Fitz back.”  Her eyes shifted to Fitz’s father.  “Dr. Arnold saw to it that I was treated well.”   
  
Silence descended over the line for a moment.  “We know who he is, Simmons.”   
  
“Good.  That will make this all easier.”  Jemma eased back into her seat in relief before continuing.  “Is Daisy there, too?”   
  
“Yeah.  But she’s looking into something for Bobbi at the moment.  We’re waiting for them to phone in with a sitrep with recon on Fitz’s and the kidnapper’s location.  They’re a bit late, but the location is up in the mountains and they only took cell phones along, so service may be the issue.”   
  
A frisson of fear chased up her spine, as her fingernails dug halfmoon imprints into the faux leather of the jumpseat.  “Mack, the kidnappers are expecting the Doctor to approach alone.  In fact, they were explicit that he come alone or they will kill Fitz."

Leonard dropped the communications device he was working on, the terror evident in his eyes.  Terror that they were so close and then could lose it due to Shield's poor timing.   
  
“Jemma, I’ll relay it as soon as I can reach Bobbi.  You’ve got my word on that.  We will never do anything that would endanger Turbo further.”  Mack assured.

Smiling, she breathed a fleeting sigh of relief, before Leonard caught her eyes.   
  
“Jemma.  The time table.” he reminded, glancing down at his watch.  He was getting more anxious with every minute that ticked by.   
  
“Oh yes.  Mack, they also moved up the original time table for the exchange.  I’m not sure how soon we can get there, but our pilot is moving like May does.  We may need some help with stalling the actual exchange--without being obvious that we are stalling.  If that makes sense?”

"I'm sure Tremors and I can come up with something.”   
  
Jemma was about to respond when she heard a somewhat muffled “Is that Jemma?” over the line.   
  
She raised her brows.  “Daisy?”

There was a rustle as Mack handed off the phone.

“Now.  What’s this about a new addition to the team?”     
  
Jemma’s jaw dropped.  Especially when she could hear Mack rumble in the background.  “Think I heard it was a lion.”   
  
Daisy chuckled.  "Coulson’s already getting a  nursery ready for you two but you've got a lot of explaining to do.  Gotta admit, I wasn't sure you both knew how that worked..."   
  
Mack burst in.  “Does Fitz know?”   
  
"No, he doesn't know," Jemma thought bitterly, not even deigning to respond to Daisy’s jab.  He couldn't know because some bloody cretins with a vendetta had whisked him away from her.   And yet another secret agency seemed to be gearing up for some sort of powers struggle when this was all over.    
  
Jemma pressed her fingers to the hollow above the bridge of her nose and sighed.  When they got Fitz back, his reunion with his father might be tainted by the trouble this little white lie had wrought.  “I’ll have you know I was blindsided by that, too.  And once that cat was out of the bag, I had hardly a moment’s privacy.”   
  
“Then you’re alone now?”   
  
“Not entirely.”  Jemma’s eyes slid to Leonard’s contrite gaze.  “Although present company is trusted enough to work out the details of the rescue.”

“We’re currently staged above the extraction point Bobbi indicated.”  Daisy’s fingers flew over the touch screen.  “We want to be able to provide aerial support  where we can, but we’re still waiting for Bobbi and Hunter to make contact from the the location they suspect is where Fitz is being held.”

Mack added, “The town isn’t big and the cell reception seems to be awful.  But they both were already able to get actionable recon.”

“That’s good.”  Jemma breathed.  “We only have an hour before the designated time of the exchange.”

Leonard spoke loudly enough to be heard on the other end of the line.  “We were unavoidably detained, and could use assistance with stalling.  But no one should make a grab for him before I go in first.  I do not want his safely compromised and I will not lose him now.  Not when we're so close.”

“Not to worry,”  Daisy assured.  “We’ve got the skies covered and will relay to Bobbi and Hunter as soon as we can.  You both just work on getting Fitz. Just make sure to watch your backs.”

* * *

As Shield already had agents on the ground, it was clear to Giyera that his agents would need to go undercover.  He had done his due diligence and found the delivery company that delivered to the diner.  His men efficiently divested the normal drivers of their vehicle and their uniforms and proceeded up the mountain road.

The truck pulled into the town and backed into an alley.  Giyera hid back behind the corner in the shadows of the truck.  He was far too identifiable to any lurking Shield Agents, and from what little he did see on the way in, the people occupying this town seemed to be particularly--not diverse.  

He ordered his men to start unloading the truck as if this were a usual delivery and phoned his two contacts to meet him at the diner immediately.  

He was anxious to get the assets into his personal custody.  His contacts were sloppy, which didn't bode well for them or their future within Hydra.  Giyera could chastise them for being careless, but it would be so much more satisfying to watch Malick strike fear in them first.  For now, it was in his best interests to ensure the younger Dr. Fitz was in his far more capable hands.

The assassin allowed himself a small smile.  Shield’s best assets could only do so much here.  He had put together a tremendous amount of research on the Shield team with Mr. Ward’s assistance.  He knew that the two young scientists were easiest to handle when separated.  He knew that he had at least a slight advantage with his powers against any single person on the team with hand to hand combat.  And he knew that they very rarely worked alone, a fact which would have prevented the tall blonde’s previous victory during their first meeting in the ACTU main complex.  They were a team that became even more dangerous when one of their own was in danger. 

He needed to keep Shield separated and in town where the collateral of innocents was high.  But perhaps most importantly, he needed to keep them off balance and hold his advantage on the timing.  There were definitely two there, but Shield rarely seemed to travel so lightly.

* * *

Tucked into an alcove further up the sleepy street, Hunter crouched behind the low brush with binoculars.  The windows of the tiny house were boarded up on the first floor, and he couldn’t get a decent angle to try to look through the blinds on the second from this side of the street.  Considering the bit of chatter they overheard from the shady man at the diner, this could very well be the house where construction or periodic sounds of a struggle could be heard.

Bobbi stood the in shadows of the house beside him, spending the past few minutes trying to find the best signal on her comms.  She blew out a slow, calming breath.  It would be best to strategize with Daisy and Mack away from the minimal crowds they might find up here, but that option seemed to be off the table.  They would probably have to wait until they got closer to the diner to even try to call for an update.  The service in the small village spotty at best.

“Hunter,” she whispered.

“Not really seeing a thing, love.”  Blinking, he pulled the eyepieces away from his face for a moment.  “Although, I question the wisdom of giving the binoculars to the one of us with a rather dashing shiner.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I’ve seen what you think passes for strategy.”

Hunter treated her to a cheeky grin before reapplying himself to his task.  “It has worked out for me often enough.”

She rolled her eyes and pocketed her cell.  “I think having Mack landing on the hill or in the valley will be the best option.  I figure that they will try to head back down the mountain to the plane they stashed there.  With Fitz out in the open, they will need to keep him out of sight of the residents.  This may be a sleepy little town but they don't seem the type that would allow someone to be hauled around tied up against his will.”

“Don’t think we can actually do much to flank using only the containment pod.”  

“True.”  Bobbi murmured as she hunched down to get a similar vantage point and confirm what Hunter was seeing.  “But I don’t want them to have any idea what the unit can do.  It might be the only real surprise advantage we have right now.”

The turnover of the engine drew both of their eyes from the house, as the rusted, vintage blue truck barreled down the otherwise sleepy street.  

Bobbi only caught a glance at the cab, but was half certain she had spotted two men dressed in black and a figured slumped between them.

* * *

Grabbing two bottles so she could continue her work and moving towards the cockpit, Avery narrowed her eyes.  She had never gotten the chance to read Agent Marquez the riot act for her poor treatment of her former student.  While the girl was kidnapped and pregnant no less.  

But Marquez had also been listening in to prepare for the best time for take off.  In the moment, it had been a boon, but Marquez had also been a bit dodgy earlier when she had dropped past before take off with an update to the escape plan.

For someone whose actual job was the direct protection of Dr. Smith, it was startling just how scattered she appeared to be when she thought no one was watching.

She arrived up in the cockpit, unsurprised to find Marquez’s phone again up on the dash.  It seemed she was actively waiting for some sort of call or message.  Though now at least she was not listening in on Jemma’s own cell phone contact.  Dr. Smith could certainly ensure she didn’t compromise the SWORD base location for now.     
  
Avery made a bit of noise and set the second water bottle into the holder beside Marquez.  “How much longer do you think we have?”   
  
Marquez cycled her attentions across all the instrument panels, darting her eyes to the still dark phone screen before looking back out onto the horizon.  “I figure about 45 minutes to get there and perhaps another 5 to land.”   
  
Avery held onto the doorway unsure whether it was best to take that information back or give Jemma a few more minutes of privacy.  When Marquez’s eyes darted back to her phone, her own curiosity won out.

“Waiting for a call from back home?”   
  
Marquez rolled her eyes and gripped the stick a bit more tightly.  Unable to keep the look of contempt from her face at the intrusion, she muttered, “Something like that.”

Avery cracked open the other bottle and slid into the co-pilot’s seat.  For a while,she was silent, sharing the view of the horizon for the precious few minutes before they would land.   
  
“I did mean to ask you--”   
  
Marquez sighed.  “Is this really the time?  You all can play in the back with your little toys all you like.  But I’m the only one with combat training.  I need to make sure I have a plan to bring all of you back to the Commander.  Though I should remind you that while my sole purpose is to protect Dr. Smith, you and the girl are still expendable to me. So if you want to get back to the base you will give me time to set something up.”

“Oh.”  Avery said quietly before steeling her voice.  “It is true that none of us has had formal training, but Dr. Simmons and I both had to survive through the fall of Hydra.  It isn’t exactly fair to claim we are untested.”

“Regardless.  I still need time to plan and enough quiet to hear myself think.”

Setting her jaw, Avery countered.  “Then think about this while you plan.  The Commander gave that girl special access and special detention rules while she has been in SWORD custody.  I would not put great faith that the Commander will be satisfied with your mission performance should you continue to consider Jemma to be expendable.”

* * *

Leonard tried to keep his head level despite his growing anxiety.  Everything was happening all too fast yet not fast enough at the same time. He kept his hands busy with the prep work, but the only thing holding him together at the moment was awareness that Jemma herself seemed to be taking queues from him on the anxiety front.  

He needed a distraction. Before they knew what they were up against, worrying would only sabotage their confidence. They had to approach the plan for Leo's rescue with fresh eyes.

“It can be quite intimidating having a child who is more clever than you.  How ever did your parents manage it?” He asked, needing to fill the otherwise overbearing weight of the silence. 

Her startled eyes drifted to his, before relaxing into a slight smile.  “They were always clever in their own way.  Not mention both of them were extremely patient teachers.  They indulged my curiosity, and even helped look up the answers where they could until it was beyond their power to help me.”  

She quickly grasped the implications for his situation and watched his eyes grew distant.  “I’m sure you would have done the same for Fitz if you could.”

“I was always worried for him, you know.  For their safety, I spent all those years in relative isolation.  I know all too well how it wears on you.  Leo was always clever, but it didn’t always equate to common sense or playing well with other children--at least not when he was young.  I’ve spent years trying to collect whatever bits and scraps of information I could.  Trying to follow his time in school and his work in SHIELD.  Early on, Fury even sent me a few of his blueprints for items that were also given to SWORD.  I had them up on my room like a kindergartner's drawings on the fridge.

The best hope I had for him was hearing about his partnership with you. In retrospect, it was odd that they neglected to mention your full name.  Just Doctor Simmons or Agent Simmons.  Until we met, I had no idea that you were female.

Honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered to me who you are, except that you have been a rather excellent partner and collaborator with my son.”  His eyes gleamed as he smiled.  “Although, I think my son would mind quite a bit.”

Jemma’s eyebrows rose, although she chose to be deliberately obtuse.  “Meaning?”

Leonard smiled, as he busied his hands with preparing the old school communications equipment.  He was far too practiced in hearing dodges like that in his two decades within secret agencies.  “I’ve seen that face before.  It’s like jumping back in time 30-some odd years and looking into a mirror.  Or looking at myself in my wedding pictures.”

She had a deceptively serene smile and the barest hint of a blush on her cheeks.  

“I was reasonably sure even before I inadvertently saw you both making out in the hallway.”

Serenity was gone in an instant, hidden behind her hands, which she’d drawn up to cover her face.  

He barely managed to hear her muffled, “Oh no!” before he pressed onwards.  “Which is probably as fun for you now as it was for me to see it happen, and to walk back to the cockpit.”

“Stop!”  She pulled her hands from her face, now red all the way to the tips of her ears.  “Stop please.”

He guffawed loudly.  “I suppose there is no use asking you for your intentions towards Leo after all this.”   
  
“It’s all still too new.  The romance side, anyways.”  Jemma moaned, flipping over her phone in her hands as a distraction.  “We’d made plans for dinner that got horribly derailed.  It has only been in the last few weeks that everything has started to come together again.”  She looked up with a wry smile, "We were terribly put out you interrupted us earlier...must have been making up for lost years of parenting there."

His smile faded rapidly.  “And the odds are that I won’t ever have the opportunity to do it again.  Jemma, I need you to promise me you’ll tell him everything I’ve told you.  Promise me you'll help him understand that I did this because I loved him.  And promise me you'll take care of him for me.”

She shook her head, grabbing his hands tightly within her own.  “You’ll get to tell him yourself once we get him back.  Shield already has agents in position on the ground, both of whom I would trust with my life.”   
  
Leonard had long since lost his trust in hope.  “Jemma.  Please.” he begged, needing to know that Leo would be taken care of and that his father cared for him more than his own life.   
  
She sighed in defeat.  “You have my word, but it's not going to come to that.  I won't let it.”

Standing quietly in the doorway, Avery cleared her throat.  “Not to interrupt, but we have about 30 minutes left before we land.  I figure now is the time to finish the dispensers and get our game plan in order.”

* * *

Giyera tapped his foot, impatiently waiting for Adams and Jackson to appear with his hostage.  His crew had almost finished unloading the truck, and they wouldn’t have much time to linger without drawing suspicion.

Respect was something to be earned, and he certainly had more of it for his crew than these two lackwits.  There was hardly any time before the exchange and it was essential that he hold the upper hand.

He drew out of the shadows briefly, looking for a sign of an old truck Jackson had described, grimacing as he was spotted by a pair of construction workers.  Frowning suspiciously, they monitored him for a few minutes before heading into the diner.

These fools were wasting precious time and the escape advantage.  They must be ready to knock out the elder Doctor Fitz and get everyone onto the truck as soon as the man revealed himself.

Gritting his teeth, he willed the time on his watch to slow until he heard the telltale rumble of gravel beneath tires.  

Adams jumped out of the side to help Jackson back the truck into the alley.  

Within a few minutes, his crew had provided an extra hand to help haul the still drugged younger Doctor Fitz out of the tiny back seat.

Adams ran inside to grab a coffee.  “It wouldn’t do to have the car park so close without stopping in to see the waitress.  She’s nosy and she’ll notice we came past.”

Once the still cuffed young man was loaded onto the delivery truck, Jackson grumbled as Adams finally, conveniently, re-appeared.  

Adams walked slowly, sipping his coffee until he was far enough down the darkened alley for the shadows to conceal him.  “We appear to have an issue.”

Giyera quirked a brow.

“A few of the yokels are up sitting at the counter.  It seems that they spotted you lurking about, and they were talking about heading to the sheriff to run you out of town.”

Giyera shouted back for his crew to finish loading up, and started walking out of the alley.

“Wait!” Adams shouted.  “Where are you going?”

Giyera grinned, wolfishly.  “To grab a cup of coffee.”

* * *

In less than a minute, Giyera stood in the doorway.  The few men along the counter grew silent when they spotted him.

The waitress was surprisingly quick on her feet for a woman her age, looking up from where she had been bundling silverware into napkins.  “You sit anywhere you like, and I’ll be right with you.”

Giyera scoped out the entirety of the mostly empty diner before he walked over to the booth closest to the door.  

The waitress brought over a mug and a mostly full pot of coffee.  “The coffee is on the house.  What else can I get for you?”

Giyera offered her a smile, shifting his gaze to the three men hovering by the counter.  “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.  A slice of pie would be lovely.”

“Well now, we’ve got apple and pecan.”

The crowd at the counter sneered back him, daring him to stay.

“I believe I’ll take the apple.”

“I’ll be back with it in just a few.”  She smiled sunnily, before bustling towards the kitchen door.  

The moment the waitress had gone back into the kitchen, one of the men at the counter grew brave and stalked towards his booth, before his friends joined him.

“I’d advise you to move along, buddy.  Or else we’ll be asking the sheriff to tell you the same.”

Giyera took a sip of the coffee, and looked pointedly at the unbundled silverware in the grey bin.  “I’ll leave once my business is complete.  And not a moment before.”

One of the men grabbed his arm.  “You’ll leave now.”

Giyera’s eyes grew hard for only a moment, as a distinct whizzing sound pierced the air.  When he blinked, each of the men slumped to the floor where they stood.

* * *

The sound of a woman screaming in terror broke through the fog muddying his mind.  

‘Jemma!’ he mentally screamed but his mouth would not cooperate.

He could at least listen, registering the clomping of boots heading away from him.  Not that he could pry his eyes open to confirm.  Fitz strained a bit against the cuffs at his wrists.

“What the hell is he doing?”  An unfortunately familiar voice shouted.

Fitz stilled in panic.  The shout echoed in the space above 

Jackson sounded far more calm.  “Taking care of a problem.”

“Remind me not to get on his bad side,” Adams said, the edge of panic in his voice only slighted dulled.

Fitz wracked his brain, trying to come to terms with his situation.  The cuffs bit into his wrists, egging him on to sharper focus.  He was desperate to he reach the kit stashed in his boot and try to make a break for it, unsure if he'd get another opportunity.   

His hands didn't want to listen to commands, only twitching slightly where he needed them to reach several feet away.

He felt like screaming in frustration at the futility of it all--until heard heard the voice of the man who joined them.

“Hello, Dr. Fitz.”

Fitz was suddenly glad he couldn’t scream aloud, as he was wrenched upwards by his metal handcuffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally gearing up for the end here, although I still am uncertain on the total number of chapters at this point.
> 
> Feedback is always greatly appreciated! Your lovely comments really have helped me to make this the longest work I've written to date. 
> 
> Status updates can be found periodically on my tumblr (overworkedunderwhelmed). I do have a few other projects with tighter deadlines this summer, but Path is my favorite and I will absolutely sneak in the remaining chapters as I can.


	15. Chapter 15

_Undisclosed Location_

_23 December 2015, Part IV_

* * *

Still a bit breathless from running after the truck, Bobbi and Hunter ducked across the street from where the the driver had tucked it into the alley.

“Should we move in?”  Hunter peeked around the corner of the large brick building he was pressed against.  
  
“Jemma said they need more time, right?”  Bobbi reasoned.  “Let’s monitor for a second and--”  
  
A loud scream emanated from the diner.  Time was up.  
  
Grabbing her phone, Bobbi redialed as fast as possible, pressing her back against the wall.  “Mack, there seems to be some sort of situation in the center of town.”  
  
“You think you’ve got that covered?”    
  
“Not sure yet.  I don’t want to rush since Jemma was so adamant about us staying out of sight.”  
  
Hunter squeezed her shoulder, as the truck peeled out of the alley, its tires kicking up a pile of dust and smoke.  
  
Their eyes met, communicating all they needed in a brief moment.   
  
Hunter nodded and spun on his heel, sprinting back down the alley.    
  
“The truck we just chased down is on the move again.  I’m heading in to assess the situation inside the diner and Hunter is following the truck. "

* * *

In the truck, Fitz winced against the tight cuffs and trying not to gag on the rag stuffed hastily between his teeth.   Giyera hadn't taken well to the feeble cries for help that had increased as the drug had begun to wear off.   
  
He shot Fitz a dark look before turning back to his temporary assistants. “Dr. Jackson, please take the truck back to the house.  We have some unwanted guests who will probably follow you, hoping to save one of their own.  Mr. Adams, I’d like you to station yourself outside to help guard Dr. Fitz here, in case our guests get any clever ideas.”   
  
He grinned as Jackson and Adams scurried off to carry out his orders. The men truly had no idea what they had gotten themselves into, and if they put so much as one foot wrong, they wouldn’t live to find out.   
  
He turned back to his young captive, anxious to rattle his cage and make him a bit more desperate.  Nothing would tug the father’s frazzled heartstrings more than his poor child’s distress.  "Did you think your friends will save you, Dr. Fitz?  They didn't get to you and your lady friend in time in England.  They certainly won't here.”

The young man bit into the rag, trying to talk around it.  That kind of defiance wouldn’t do.  Some situations called for a judicious application of a hammer, but in this case, a more subtle knife would suffice.

“And speaking of, how is...Jemma...was it?  Do you still hear those delicious screams every time you sleep? Does she have nightmares of what would happen if I were to get to her again?  Or do you? I bet you hear her screams every time you close your eyes.”

Dr. Fitz’s eyes were a satisfying mix of pain and anguish, but enough defiance to keep things interesting.  It was clear why Mr. Ward had found him so entertaining.

“So helpless then and so helpless now."

* * *

Marquez set the plane down about a five minute walk their destination, on relatively uneven ground.  The location wasn’t ideal but would do in a pinch, and probably shaved a good five minutes off the time it would take to get into town.

Leonard mentally sighed as he hurried down the ramp with the GPS tracker up and running on his phone.  He’d only be late by minutes, and he’d have to hope it would be enough.

Avery shouted down the ramp as they collected the test dispersal units.  “You go ahead, Dr. Smith.  We’ll be right behind you.”

Jemma tried to smile, her stomach in knots.  “And we’ll be keeping to the shadows as much as possible.  Shield won’t let them take either of you.”

Leonard merely nodded. He was not putting much stock in Shield’s ability to get him out of this mess.  All that mattered was that they got Leo out.  He had meant what he said--he'd trade himself in exchange for Fitz’s freedom.  To get him back to Jemma.

 

The streets of the dusty town were thankfully quite empty.  He hated to think of anyone else getting hurt as collateral damage in the midst of whatever nefarious plan the kidnappers had in store.

“You’re late, Doctor Fitz.”  
  
Leonard looked up from his phone, startled, as he arrived at the coordinates.   He did not recognize the Asian man waiting for him, but Leo was nowhere to be seen.  “Where is my son?”   
  
“Out of sight for now.”  Giyera smirked.  “Your former peers were less than complimentary about your ability to follow the rules.  I needed insurance in case you did not abide by the rules set forth in the exchange.  Your son may not survive your poor decisions.”   
  
Leonard grit his teeth, fighting to keep himself under control and focusing his anger on Giyera.  If he allowed himself to become emotional, one wrong move on his part might bring his son harm.

* * *

It was pure luck that Hunter spotted the phone casing laying on the side of the road while running back to the hideout.  The kidnappers were getting rid of the evidence most likely, not wanting to be caught with such an incriminating piece of evidence.

Unwilling to waste another second, he called Bobbi as he was already turning back to join her.  The phone connected, but he didn’t wait for her to speak.  “Bob.  We’re being played.  That truck was definitely involved, but there’s only the one driver.  I’m on my way back to you, the other must still have Fitz."

_“Hunter, I’m counting three dead men in the diner.”_

“Do you know what happened?”

 _“I have a suspicion,”_ she murmured as she assessed the scene.  A heavy silence took over the line.   _“This is pretty gruesome and I don’t see any sign of the waitress.”_

He veered around the street sign, hearing Bobbi move heavier pieces in the background.  

_“I’m looking for the waitress now, but I need you to call Mack and Daisy.  If I’m right, we may need them both. Stay low for a bit.”_

“Bob, who or what are we dealing with?”

_“Assume it is an Inhuman we have possibly seen before.  Let’s play it safe.  We’ll need every advantage we can get.”_

Hunter ducked back behind a truck before he hit the main drag.  He didn’t probe her further--she would tell him at a more appropriate time who or what they were dealing with.   “I’ll handle the call.”

_“And Hunter….”_

“Yeah?”

_“Don’t die out there.”_

* * *

Fitz was still groggy, but the fear and pain were helping to work the dendrotoxin out of his system.  

It could have been the compound or a lingering remnants of a memory from their time in Sci Ops, but could practically hear Jemma waxing philosophical in his head.

_“It is not unlike alcohol.  When imbibed alone, the effect is more stark. However, when taken with food, the absorption rate is somewhat muted as the body prefers to pull the nutrients it can from the meal and dispose of the non-food more quickly.”_

So, the oral dose was less than ideal.

_“Yes.  And unlikely for use in the field.”_

Hence the subcutaneous dispersal mechanism.

_“Exactly!”_

He couldn’t help but smile.  Picturing Jemma in his mind again was bright point in an otherwise miserable day.  It was just a shame he couldn’t actually see her--in far better circumstances.

Whatever they had used to knock him out when he was first kidnapped was different and harsher.  When he woke up, his nostrils felt half burnt and his senses were dulled.

Fitz knocked his head against the metal floor, attempting to pull his thoughts into focus.  He had to do something. Giyera had threatened Jemma again. Last he knew, Jemma was with Dr. Arnold--who was, in all likelihood, his father, returned from the grave.  His captors had rambled and carried on about the offensive Dr. Smith, outright stating that Fitz was the bait to bring the man to heel at Hydra’s tentacles.  And no matter who his father was or what he had done, no one deserved that.

But there was also a chance that Jemma might still be travelling with this Dr. Smith.  Even if there was only the slightest chance, he had to warn her.  

Somehow.

They had left him blessedly alone inside the truck, but he could hear a number of guards milling about just outside.  

At least they had cuffed his hands together in the front.  If he could manage to sit up, he might be able to reach the kit tucked into the heel of his right shoe and get the cuffs off.  He bit further into the cloth to muffle any sound he might make that would alert the guards to his plans.

* * *

Jemma and Avery ducked into the first alley they could find.  They couldn’t see Leonard, as Avery had been far too insistent they hold back to the tree line as an extra precaution.

Fitz was here, somewhere, and they needed to extract him quickly so he could not be used as leverage against his father or the waiting Shield.

Her hands were sweating and her heart racing.  It was as if she had sprinted the full distance from the plane.  She was anxious to see Fitz and know he was well...and give him the medical work up of his life. Everything else would have to wait until they could steal a quiet moment alone.

Avery pressed back against the side of the little grocery store, looking at Jemma.  “I still wish you would wear the mask.  We haven’t done thorough toxicity testing on some of these, and a woman’s entire body is so much more sensitive to the littlest things while pregnant.”

Jemma sighed.  She would have to tell Dr. Avery about the situation eventually.  But perhaps it could wait until Fitz was safe and they no longer had to present a unified front. “I did at least grab one of the higher grade Kevlar vests.  And I’ll take extra caution to only throw the units a fair distance away.”

“Have you found a good location?”

Startled, Jemma and Avery both jumped.  They hadn't even heard Marquez approach.

The specialist toted a rifle that could help pinpoint and suppress threats to both of the Fitz’s safety, assuming she was the equal of any of Shield’s specialists.  Jemma was far more hesitant on that mark.  “You’re absolutely certain that you won’t accidentally hit Fitz?”

Marquez narrowed her eyes in irritation.  “I don’t take a shot unless I know I won’t miss.”

Jemma nodded, although she couldn’t fully quash the frisson of fear on Fitz’s account.  

The last specialist she had known as confident in his shooting abilities had made her life nothing but hell.  Still, she wasn’t entirely sure Marquez was trustworthy, considering what all she had done, not only these last few days, but also in her handling of Leonard.  Always treating him as a physical asset and not acknowledging that he was also a terrified father being extorted by the kidnapping of his only son.

Biting her lip in silent hope this would be the last shared interaction she would need to have with Marquez, she nodded down the road.   “Do you see the red brick building about three shop fronts up?  It seems to have windows that would be easiest to open.”

Marquez was slowly assessing the whole of their surroundings.  “The one with the green siding might do as well.”

“But we don’t know who is watching right now,” Jemma said.

“And in a town this small, any strangers would be an uncommon occurrence,” Avery agreed.  

“Although, it is a bit eerily quiet, even for the smaller number of vehicles on the road.”

Marquez hefted the strap of the large bag up over her shoulder and tapped her ear.  “Everything is in order?”

Avery clicked the switch at her side.  “Test, test.”

With a curt nod of acknowledgement, Marquez moved to the back alley to get into position.

* * *

Bobbi crept back into the kitchen, staves in hand.  She was unsure whether anyone else may still be alive in the building.  Even if so, there was no telling if they were friend or foe.

The water from the faucet was pouring over the edge of the sink, pooling onto the floor.   Reaching over, Bobbi shut it off.  It would be too much of a hazard for anyone involved--potentially herself included--if she had to use the secondary function on her staves.

But if the sinks were still running, then the kitchen staff must still be around somewhere.  

Thankfully, there was no sign of conflict in the kitchen itself.  That basically left three options.  

Bobbi backpedaled to the stairs, methodically throwing open each upstairs door in a far darker parody of hide and seek.  The rooms were austere, aside from a few large furniture pieces.  It hadn’t take long for Bobbi to come up empty in her search and returned to the kitchen to check the walk-in refrigerator.

As she attempted to pull open the door, she was met with terrified screams.

The waitress and the cook were huddled together it in the corner.  The waitress breathed a heavy sigh.  “Oh, thank God.  It isn’t him.”

The cook was still curled up into fetal position, rocking back and forth.  He was murmuring softly, enough that Bobbi could tell it wasn’t in English but not distinguish the words.

Bobbi peered back into the hall.  “Isn’t who?”

“I--” the waitress started, before standing up and to move the handful of boxes that had barred the door.  When she found her words again, she could hardly stop babbling.  “A new customer.  Never saw the man before today.  He was foreign looking, not that I could tell you where his family came from, mind you, but spoke perfectly clear English.  Now, some of the boys had gotten their dander up because many around here don’t take kindly to strangers, and they were giving him some trouble.  I tried to smooth things over a bit, got him a cup of coffee and came back here to grab a slice of pie.  I couldn’t have been more than a minute back in the kitchen, grabbing the pie, when Jorge barricaded us both in here.”

Crouching down next to the still anxious cook, Bobbi asked, “¿Qué viste?”

When he finally did look up to answer, his eyes were haunted.

Bobbi instantly grabbed for her staves, helping both of them out of the fridge.  “It isn’t safe here in town.  You both need to get out of town as fast as you can.”

The waitress frowned.  “I can understand some Spanish, but I didn’t catch most of what he said.”

Bobbi pushed them along.  “He said that man was a powered individual.  The fact that he killed three of your other customers tells me that you need to get out now.”

* * *

Marquez settled into a position on the second floor.  The tripod was already in place as she worked on the main rifle components.  This was a modified version of an older Shield model, more practically transportable but just as effective.  

Her earpiece sat on the floor, periodically carrying the chatter.

_“Anything on your end, Jemma?”_

_“Nothing yet.”_

Marquez rolled her eyes.  Of course there wasn’t.  Whoever was running this show knew what they were doing, even if the lower rank and file did not.

Her phone chimed, finally carrying the terse message she had been waiting for.  “Update me now.”

Muting her end of the comms, she dialed quickly.  “Good Afternoon, Mr. Harris.”

_“How is your assignment progressing?”_

She grimaced.  “It could be better at the moment.  Smith is trying to hand himself over to save his son.”

Silence reigned on the other end. _“It was my understanding the son was out of play due to an agreement with Shield. What has necessitated the sudden change?”_

“Unfortunately,” she grunted with the added force of snapping components into place, “that much has never been clear.  His son was kidnapped to draw him in.  But to what end, I don’t really have any good information to report.”  

_“And we’re dealing with malicious actors?”_

“That much is certain.”

_“It isn’t my preferred route, but if he is taken into their custody, I need you to take the shot.  I trust that won’t be a problem.”_

Marquez snorted.  “He’s been a thorn in my side for a long time, and has been particularly challenging these past few months.  If the need is there, trust that I won’t hesitate.”

* * *

With a muffled grunt, Fitz finally reached the heel of his shoe from his seated position, pulling away the hard rubber that hid his Fitz Army Knife.  It was a challenge to be sure, but not as awkward as opening the kit and locating the chemical lock pick might be.  

The pick would work, once he finally got it free, but with his wrists cuffed, he’d need to attempt to pick the lock using his teeth, maneuvering the device through the the fabric of his gag, because he’d never be able to get the proper angle using his fingers.

And he’d have to hope he didn’t accidentally drop it.  Losing it on the floor would be a costly setback and the sound might alert the patrolling guards of his attempts to get free.

He was so engrossed watching for the guards and focusing on the lock, he didn’t see the figure creeping forward through the shadows of the alley.

* * *

Jemma could hear Avery shouting in her ear, but she didn’t dare speak up.  Not now. For the first time in days she could see Fitz.  She could see where he was being held, could see him working through a pair of cuffs as a troop of six guards were distracted by some commotion outside on the main road.  She could only suppose it was Leonard negotiating his son’s release.  Her heart ached and tears welled.  Fitz was so close yet so far.

She needed to quietly pull the guards away.  Surely one of the dispensers could knock out at least a few of the guards and allow her to bring Fitz back to safety.

If only she could get Fitz’s attention first.

Jemma suppressed the urge to pout, when he was so focused on his task at hand instead of heeding her mental pleas. This all would be so much easier if only they were truly psychically linked, like Daisy had so often joked. Instead, she settled for the more realistic set of pebbles littering the alley and weighed her options.  She could toss one or two towards the truck, but Fitz might not see her before one of the guards noticed--or noticed exactly what _he_ had been up to.  Alternatively, she could toss them off to the side, which would distract at least one or two of the guards.  But she’d need to be ready to use one or two of the dispersal units to handle a second wave of the guards.

She certainly couldn’t put Fitz in any more danger, which made her decision quite simple.  Pulling a three of the dispersal units out of the bag, she got everything ready in sequence:  the pebbles, the palm-sized canisters, and her own inner calm.

She had survived 6 months on a planet that had killed many men, in a crucible that had tested every aspect of her mettle and resolve.  She hadn’t left the ordeal unscathed, but she had proven to herself without any doubt that she was resourceful and could survive under the meanest conditions.  Jemma hadn’t survived that hellish planet just to lose Fitz to a pack of low-level Hydra goons.

With a final deep breath, she tossed the pebbles, picked up the canisters, and ducked behind a set of garbage cans to wait for the guards to move.

* * *

Avery hissed into her microphone.  “Jemma.  Jemma?”  

The entire line was eerily silent.  Even Marquez wasn’t chiming in with snarky comments, leaving her feeling altogether disconcerted.

With a fleeting moment of panic, Avery tapped at her headset, whirling around in the back alley to try to get a better signal location..  “Is this thing even on?  Jemma?  Answer me, please!”

She hadn’t noticed the man approach until he almost ran right into her.  “Why are you calling for Simmons?  She’s here, now?”

Avery’s eyes widened.  

Hunter smirked before he clarified.  “I’m a co-worker.”

“Shield?” she inquired.

When Hunter nodded, she allowed herself a sigh of relief.

Hunter looked both ways down the alley.  There was no time to question if she should trust the new arrival, so she had to place her faith in his best intentions.  

“This place really isn’t all that big.  Where is Jemma supposed to be now?”

She sighed.  That the man actually knew Jemma’s full name was at least mildly reassuring.  “Looking for Dr. Fitz down the alley on the opposite side.”

“We need to ask the Director to get bells for the pair of them.”  Hunter looked a bit uncertain, his hand hovering near his service weapon .  “Let’s head over there then.  Bob found a bit of trouble in that direction earlier, and I’d feel a bit better after checking in with them both.”

* * *

Leonard scowled, a feeling of unease crawling up his spine.  “I already told your flunkies that I would hand myself over without incident.  Therefore, it is not unreasonable for me to  see my son and verify he is safe before I do so.”

Giyera’s grin infuriated him to no end.  “You’ll see him soon enough.  You should be thrilled to learn you will continue to see him for quite a number of years, at least after this.”

Blinking, Leonard drew back confused.  At first blush, it sounded like everything he wanted.  But if he was turning himself over...  “You’ve changed the terms of the exchange.” he said, feeling his world spin.  Everything he had done to protect Leo all these years vanished in an instant.  

“There will be no exchange.  Hydra will require both of your services.”

* * *

Fitz heard the light crackle as the compound set.  He’d still have a minute at least to wait until it had hardened enough to be turned.

“What was that?” one of the guards grumbled.

Fitz sat against the truck, looking as nonchalant as he could while trying to mask the the key that was still forming and peering out into whatever area clearly caused the sound they just heard.  Maybe, just maybe they would buy it.

But they never came in.  Two of the guards had moved closer to the mountain ridge that lined the alleyway, pistols at the ready.  They peered at the ground, one kicking the pebbles with the toe of his boot.  “Just some stones that must have broken loose from the ledge up there.”

As they started walking back, Fitz noticed a ball roll out from behind a trash bin towards them.  He could barely blink before the ball started emitting some sort of toxic gas, causing the two guards to drop to the ground in a coughing fit.

The other four guards drew back closer to the truck, before the youngest of the lot was tapped to investigate.  He slowly peered into every possible space that might hide a human until another of the “toys” ricocheted from the wall to his feet, and he dropped to his knees before he could kick it away.

Fitz suppressed a smile, hoping but not daring to give voice to who was behind this clever trap.  Testing his limbs, he confirmed he’d be ready to move as soon as his cuffs were ready to come off.

The other two guards moved out, leaving Fitz with only Adams to guard him.  Fitz frowned as he turned the key that loosened the handcuff from his right hand.  His hands were now free to move; he could deal with the momentary inconvenience until he had time to confirm if the key was universal or if these cuffs had been specially made to need two keys.   The guards moved in tandem, one more obviously down the center, but a second who stuck to the wall, cloth covering his face.  The second guard was clearly ready to get the jump on his rescuer.  

Fitz ducked back behind the still closed door, thinking to use the noise to cover the sound of him opening the door in order to bash against Adams.

As the ball traced its path away from the wall, both men covered their mouths and backed away, watching and waiting for the gas to trail out.

They were not expecting the flashbang that emerged.

It disoriented all three, Adams included.  They moved but were  mostly writhing on the ground in pain, clutching at their eyes.

Fitz was somewhat sheltered from the light, but the noise reverberated through the metal of the trailer, setting his ears ringing.  

Wincing, he peered out of the truck, to see Jemma standing and pulling the her hands off her ears.

“Jemma,” he breathed.  His eyes softened and he couldn’t help but smile at what she had managed on her own.  But he had only a few brief moments to enjoy the victory before the harsh reality of the situation clearly reasserted itself in his mind.  “You need to hide!” he shouted.

* * *

The roar of a stun grenade brought Bobbi to the back alley door.  “Stay here,” she ordered the waitress and cook, who wasted no time finding a new hiding spot.

Her staves drawn, she kicked open the door, intent to dodge any incoming fire.  Her brows furrowed when none came.

Looking outside, she was a bit shocked to find both Jemma and Fitz on opposite ends, Fitz stepping down from a truck and Jemma emerging from behind some trash cans..  She dropped the remaining guard who was standing with a swift hit of her staff.  “It’s time to move.”

Jemma frowned, emerging from her cover tentatively.  “More guards?”

Bobbi grimaced.  “Just one.  And right now, none of us are well equipped enough to deal with him.”

* * *

Hunter scouted ahead as they walked down the alley towards the sound of commotion.  “How do you know Simmons?”

“I actually taught her and Dr. Fitz at the Academy.”  She chuckled.  “I never expected them to be in the field, and to be honest, we all were surprised to hear they both made the jump over together.”

Hunter smirked.  “Surprised that they moved or--”

“Yes.”  Avery smiled.  “Together might only have surprised them both.”

“How many years ago wa--”

The shock of the sound had Hunter pulling Avery with him to the building.  His eyes widened as he realized how close they were to the diner.  “Stay just behind me.  We need to rush.”

* * *

Giyera scowled in the direction of the truck.  The buildings had dampened much of the noise, but clearly the elder Fitz hadn’t kept to his end of the bargain.

With startlingly efficient motion, he dragged Leonard along beside him with the man’s neck in a half choke hold to prevent his escape.

“Settle down,” he hissed, tightening his hold for a moment to show he meant business.  “You won’t ever see your son, if I have to throttle you.”

Leonard coughed roughly as Giyera let up for a few precious moments.  “I’m coming with you.”

“Then walk.”  Giyera looked back at him, towards the nearest alley.

Leonard hadn’t taken more than half a step before the shot rang out.  

Giyera spun on his heel, subtly altering the course of the projectile that was no doubt headed for him.

But the scream that followed confirmed that not everyone had been safe from its ricochet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely underestimated how long it would take to get through the action-filled parts. We are getting near to end although, for obvious reasons, I am hesitant to put any estimates to the page. 
> 
> My foreign languages are super rusty, so if I have made an error, please feel free to message me so I can update as needed.
> 
> This really has been an enjoyable challenge to write. I can only hope you all have enjoyed reading. I appreciate all of you who have stuck with me thus far.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and messages are all greatly appreciated.


	16. Chapter 16

_ Undisclosed Location _

_ 23 December 2015, Part V _

* * *

Fitz stole a brief glance at Jemma, who stood pale and in shock from the echo of the shot reverberating through the air.  She had looked even more disconcerted when he told her to run just moments ago.  But for her safety and his peace of mind, she needed to go.  Now.  The physical wounds hadn’t even had the time to heal, let alone any other type of wound she might still be concealing.

Fitz looked back down the alley from the truck’s doorway, his own eyes narrowed.  “Bobbi, please.  Get her out of here,” he ordered.   
  
“I’m not leaving here without you, Fitz,” Jemma snapped, starting to run to him.  “Not after everything it has taken to get you back.”

Fitz frowned at her reaction, meeting Bobbi’s eyes and then looking pointedly up the alley.  “Bobbi, he’s coming,” he whispered, sure she would understand.   
  
Cracking open the doorway, Bobbi didn't hesitate and grabbed Jemma as she ran past, starting to pull her through.  But she was not going without a fight.  Jemma dug in her heels.  “I don’t understand.  Who is coming, Fitz?  I’m not going without you, so if you want me to go, you need to come with me!"

He grit his teeth in determination, as he'd gotten eyes on Dr. Arnold, cuffed and following behind Giyera.  Fitz couldn't let Arnold share the same fate he had.  

Jemma still noticed the tremble in his good hand.  “I’ll meet you both as soon as I can.  Go. Please.”

* * *

Bobbi finally wrestled her in through the doorway, taking a solid breath.

  
“Bobbi. No, I need to go back.”  Jemma shouted, pulling at the door.     
  
“Fitz clearly needs you here,”  Bobbi whispered, barring the door behind her.  “The staff in here had a pretty good scare earlier, and I have my own concerns about the gunshot.  You may need to provide aid.  Jemma, I promise I won't let anything happen to him.  We'll get him back.  But to do that we need you safe first, okay?”

Still somewhat unfocused, Jemma nodded.

“Now.  Let me check on the staff and see if there is anything they can do to help.”  Bobbi’s eyes narrowed, fixed on the visible ear bud hanging down to Jemma’s lapel.  “Is there anyone else here with eyes on the  main road?”

Jemma’s eyes widened.  She must have forgotten for a moment that she was wearing the mic.  “Yes.  Let me report in and see what news they might have.”

Bobbi turned her back and headed away, not entirely certain whether Jemma would keep to her word.  People had a bad tendency toward reckless behavior when feelings for people in danger were involved.

* * *

 

Jemma rested her head against the bolted door for a moment.  She still wanted desperately to go to him.  At least he was safe and whole, if not tense.  There was something more there that scared Fitz.  The thought of leaving him alone to deal with whatever that was left her irritated.  They always worked best together.

But Bobbi was probably right, the best thing she could do right now was to get everyone else out, her Shield duty meaning it was her job to protect any civilians that had gotten caught up in all this. 

Except...Neither Bobbi nor Fitz knew about Avery and Marquez.  Maybe one of them could provide aid so she could help Fitz. 

She pressed the radio transmitter at her collar.  “Avery.  What is the status from your side?”

* * *

 

“You should know that Hydra rewards compliance, Doctor Fitz.  For your cooperation here,  I brought along a present for you.”  Giyera jeered, his hold tightening on the older man as they rapidly approached the truck.  “You can have all that quality family time you missed out on for so long.”

Fitz watched the approach with gritted teeth, trying to buy Jemma enough time.  He saw how Giyera’s captive glared and almost recognized a bit of his own face, almost as though he was looking in the mirror.  He chided himself on how he might have missed it before, even with the elements of disguise the man--his father, he silently acknowledged--had used to infiltrate the Playground.

When Giyera pushed his father up to the base of the ramp, Fitz readied the dendrotoxin dose in his free hand.  There was no telling the efficacy levels.  Daisy’s father had been spectacularly immune although Daisy herself was prone.  It would be a small miracle even if he could get close enough to Giyera to jab him with the dose.  But it was worth the risk - this would likely be his one and only chance to surprise the Inhuman.

Fitz readied himself at the top of the ramp, holding his hands in front as if they were still bound and fixing his face with a look of shock. "Dad?" he whispered.     
  
Dr. Arnold--or whatever moniker could be best used to describe his father’s multiple roles--tensed and tried to pull away, as though he wanted to embrace his son despite Giyera's iron grip.   Fitz instead moved forward tentatively and extended his arms as if to hug his father.  Instead, he turned at the last moment to hit Giyera with the ampule in his free hand.

* * *

“Avery?  Are you there?”  Jemma tried to stifle the panic in her voice, instead it just elevated.  “Marquez?  Is thing even on?”

Marquez was tense when she finally responded.   _ “Dr. Simmons, Dr. Avery is down.” _

“Down?”  Jemma whispered.  “What does that--?”

Lance’s voice cut in on the line.   _ “She’s been hit, Jemma.  If you can find a safe way to get to me on the main road in the middle of town, it would be best.  She’s still breathing, but she needs to be stabilized.” _

“Hunter?”  Jemma tried to breath again.  Not only was Avery injured, but this massively foiled her plan B.  “Where was she shot?”  

_ “Looks like the bullet ricocheted, piercing right through her shoulder.  I had to flip her over, so I think it went through her back and pierced clean through.” _

Jemma’s mind was racing , but at least it seemed that so long as they could clamp down and get the cloth forming on both sides, Avery might pull through.  “I’m bringing Bobbi.  We’ll be out soon.”

_ “What the hell did that man do?”  _  Marquez shuddered.  _  I’ve never seen anything like that before.” _

Hunter half shouted over the line.   _ “Where the hell were you aiming?” _

_ “At the kidnapper.” _   Marquez sounded affronted.   _ “This was an easy shot, but it was almost like he knocked the bullet away from himself.” _

Jemma whimpered audibly.  “Oh, no.”  Now knowing exactly why Fitz had been so insistent Bobbi get her out of the alley.

* * *

 

Fitz watched Giyera spin his hand to block Fitz’s arm, his eyes locking on the sole needle delivery mechanism, bending it beyond repair, so the dendrotoxin dripped down Fitz’s hand.     
  
Giyera’s eyes were a mix of fire and ice, clear indications of anger betraying their usual preternatural calm.  The next move came so quickly that Fitz’s didn’t even see it.  But he did  _ feel _ it when the steel at his wrist pulled tightly, lifting him off his toes until he could barely touch the ground, before he was thrown back into the truck.

Groaning as his shoulder hit the back of the truck, Fitz slowly slid to the cool, metal ground.  Maybe it was the dendrotoxin in the air or the pain causing his vision to blur, but he was feeling suddenly very sleepy.  Jemma was going to have a field day over his head again.    
  
“You leave him be.”  Fitz heard his father shout from outside.    
  
“Surely, you can’t think him so innocent,”  Giyera half-purred with a sort of grudging respect.  “He did almost manage to stick me with whatever was hidden in that vial.  But I can’t have either of you in my way.  Mr. Malick does not like to be kept waiting."   
  
Fitz heard rather than saw his father pushed up the ramp by his handcuffs, Fitz finally realizing why metal had been required, and dropped against the floor some feet away.  The truck door slammed shut and was followed by a rather eerie howl.   
  
Did he--?  Fitz grimaced, trying desperately to keep his mind.  “Check the door….”   
  
His father was up and on his feet, pulling the lever futilely.  The door had no clear give, but he threw his shoulder against the door for good measure.     
  
“No use,”  Fitz mumbled, as loud as he could manage.  “I think he bent the door from the outside.  We're trapped."

* * *

 

Bobbi peered out the back door as the truck Fitz had been hiding in peeled out of its space.  Cursing, she closed the door behind her to the sounds of shots echoing from the street.    
  
Jemma met her at the back door, having heard the shots herself, eyeing the trio of corpses still on the ground.  “One of the other team has been shot and needs urgent medical attention.  I need to get out there now.”   
  
She nodded to the waitress.  “I believe your threat just escaped.  Can we borrow your truck to move an injured person to their vehicle just outside town?”   
  
The waitress lobbed her keys over the counter without comment, looking sick and pale.    
  
“Thanks.  We’ll bring it back if we can, or else we’ll leave it just outside town.  If you need to, watch for everything to quiet down to come and retrieve it.”   
  
“Who are you people, anyways?” the waitress inquired.     
  
Bobbi smiled, as she and Jemma neared the door.  “Law enforcement.”

* * *

 

Giyera smirked as he neared the edge of the town.  Hadn’t they learned that bullets were no match for his powers?  The truck moved even faster without it’s heavy load, but he’d need to slow down slightly on the incline to keep his hostages intact.  Grabbing  the cellphone left on his center console, he swooped through a short set of menus and hit re-dial.

  
‘Jackson.  I need you to meet me at the plane down in the valley now.”   
  
The fool whined over the line.  “This truck is nearly out of fuel and no one has followed.”   
  
Giyera rolled his eyes, but pressed on.   Jackson's errors were behind  Hydra’s clean up and asset recovery.  By no means would he take the fall before Mallick.    “Then take another.  Just make it happen, or you will be left behind. I already have my prize."  

* * *

 

“Damn it,”  Hunter swore, pressing back against Fitz and Simmons’ teacher’s wound with as much force as possible.  He had drawn his gun and aimed one handed at the tires in a desperate attempt to stop Giyera, but the shots had gone wide and the wound’s bleeding had not slowed nearly enough as it should, forcing him to double down his efforts rather than to go in pursuit.  “Once, just once couldn't something in this agency go according to plan?”   
  
Within the minute, Jemma was running out across the concrete to him.  Bobbi had the phone up to her ear, watching their interactions from afar.   
  
Jemma dropped to her knees beside him.  “Show me where?”   
  
Hunter pointed to the entrance and exit wounds.  Jemma dug frantically through Avery’s bag.  She looked up for a moment to see the truck disappearing in the distance.  "Fitz, no!"

“Jemma,”  Bobbi shouted, as she looked up and down the street.  “I’m already on it.”

The relief on Jemma’s face was clear as she dragged out a thick pile of bandages and some sort of spray.  One side of the  wound at a time, she pulled away the binding, applying a quick spray and then dressing new bandages around the wound.  Though she complained often enough she was not a medical doctor, she was ruthlessly efficient.  The staining through the new bandages was already  minimal.  

“It is a spray Doctor Avery’s lab had been working on,” Jemma volunteered, as Hunter looked on with some interest.  “A more effective field coagulant to help clot wounds faster.”  She looked at the doctor’s face sadly.  “I’m sure she didn’t intend to be one of the test cases.”

Bobbi was already jogging over, phone still in hand.  “I found the truck.  Can you move her?”

Jemma’s eyes narrowed, as she frowned and looked down the path out of town.  “For safety, I’d like to at least wait a minute or two more, but…”

Bobbi grinned.  “Daisy and Mack are on their way.”

* * *

 

Daisy cracked her knuckles as the recovery pod began its rapid descent to the mountain below.     
  
“Settle down there, Tremors.”  Mack rumbled.  “Bobbi said this guy was dangerous.  You got a plan in mind?”   
  
Daisy furrowed her brow.  “The mountain will be tricky.  I need to be cautious not to overpower and set off an avalanche.  I think if I keep my powers focused in the air, it should do the trick.”   
  
“Bobbi said he could move metal.”     
  
Daisy rolled her eyes.  “Ugh.  This guy again?  He loves surprise attacks.”   
  
Mack grinned.  “So you do need backup.”   
  
Daisy smiled back at him.  “Only if you see trouble.  Coulson wanted priority on rescue and extraction.”   
  
Mack nodded.  “It sounded like Bobbi will be bringing in someone who was injured too.”

Pulling a stray lock behind her ear,  Daisy said, “We’ve got our work cut out for us.  Let’s get him down fast and get everyone off the ground before we need to do any more on the news suppression here.”

* * *

“So…” Leonard hedged in the darkness of the trailer.  “How have you been doing lately.”

“This...now?  It has been two decades,”  Fitz grumbled, trying not to roll his eyes in spite of the darkness.  “I’ve been quite busy.”

“I’ve seen many of your designs, Leo.”  He could hear the smile in his father’s voice.  “They are marvelous.  Genius really.”

“How on earth could you know that?”  Fitz shouted, pressing his pounding head against the wall.

“I’ve been working with an Agency outside Shield for sometime.  Until Shield fell, I would get regular updates on your progress.  Well, enough that I saw the incredible body of work you and Jemma turned out.”

Fitz scoffed.  It was ‘Jemma,’ now was it?  “Yet you were perfectly fine to abandon Mum and me without a word.”

His father cut in, his growing brogue proof of his agitation.  “Don’t ever think that, Leo.  I’ve had to sacrifice more than you may ever know, all to keep you and your Mum safe.”

Fitz grew quiet, far too familiar with self-sacrifice to save a loved one.   
  
“But it wasn’t enough.  You should never have been in a position to be injured as you were.”   His father said, bristling.  “You should never have been subject to this entire ordeal.”

“That,”  Fitz started, before they hit a jarring bump.  “Was my decision.  Apparently self sacrifice in grand gestures runs in the family."   
  
His father sighed audibly from across the trailer.  “I never wanted any of this life for you.”

“It is my life, my right to the burden for the choices I have made.”

“Like risking your life for hers.”  His father asked, as he  realized he was missing a big part of the story.    
  
“Not that it is any of your business,”  Fitz groused, pulling his knees to himself as if physically closing himself off, “but yes.”   
  
“I may not have a right to complain, but your mother probably would.   You are the only thing she has in the world now.  And after spending time with Jemma, she might have a say in that matter too!   Spare a thought or two for them..”

"I did and do!" Fitz shouted knowing deep down this was neither the time or place for it.  But it had been the only chance he's ever had.  "Do you?" He challenged.    
  
"Every day," Leonard said sincerely.  

Silence reigned in the darkness, as they both were left to their thoughts, until his father offered.  “I suppose I should apologize to yo--”   
  
The truck swerved without warning, tossing Leonard to the other side of the truck and tossing him some few feet over.  The whole trailer tilted before a barrage of shaking turned it back upright.     
  
Fitz smiled.  That had to be Daisy.  Help had arrived.

* * *

 

Giyera narrowly swerved to avoid the white pod that seemed to have dropped out of nowhere, controlling his breathing to regulate the spike of adrenaline as he watched the trailer tip dangerously to the side in his mirror.  These assets were irreplaceable, and a failure to reel them in would not be a failure Malick would readily forgive.   
  
Tossing the phone on the seat beside him in a small concession of his anger, he moved out to check on his hostages.  Perhaps he could use one against the new arrivals.    
  
No sooner had he rounded the back of the truck than --quite literally--were his feet knocked out from under him.

* * *

Jemma grimaced from where she and Hunter were holding Avery upright in the backseat.  The man that had so delighted in torturing her had Fitz--and Fitz’s Father.  While Giyera had kidnapped both Fitz and her to help retrieve Hydra’s monster from across the universe, that utility had not kept her safe from injury.  She silently begged Bobbi to drive faster, willing her stomach to hold onto  the acidic bile in spite of their dire situation and the bumpy mountain path.     
  
Bobbi was glancing back at her in the mirror.  “Everything alright back there?”   
  
“Once we get everyone on board the Zephyr and Fitz away from that monster, I’ll be lovely.” Jemma said clenching her teeth.

Marquez was surprisingly chatty, filling in the uncharacteristic silence from Hunter and Bobbi.  "I feel like I might regret it if I don’t ask.  Is the younger Dr. Fitz  nearly as much trouble as his father?"

Bobbi glared, something about the woman setting her on edge even more than she already was.  “What do you mean?”

Marquez raised her brows.  “Dr. Smith has always bent the rules as much as possible, making my job a challenge on a daily basis.  I owed it to a certain curiosity if his son, inherited his tendency to trouble.”

“No,”  Jemma half-growled defensively.  “Fitz follows the rules, and will only bend them to protect others.”

“So, not all that far, after all.”  Marquez mused.  “After all, he has bent the rules as much as possible for this son.”

Bobbi narrowed her eyes.  “Including dose nearly the whole of a Shield base.”

Marquez’s lip curled.  “Oh no, he isn’t nearly all that clever. Besides he wanted to take things slow, explain the situation when the time was right.   Your Agent May was getting far too suspicious, so I had to delay your ability to follow his son and Agent Simmons.”

Hunter leaned back in his seat.  “Well, that explains that little mystery.  Although, May might not be above a bit of turnabout should you find yourself back at the base.  Believe me, I should know, I shot her once.”

Marquez’s brows furrowed.  “Noted.”

* * *

 

Daisy rounded the truck in the opposite direction, sending her molecular manipulation rippling through the air to toss Giyera forward like a rag doll, through the air and away from the truck.   Bobbi said that Fitz was definitely inside, possibly with another hostage in his father, so she didn’t want to risk him possibly being harmed.

“I suppose it isn’t even worth asking you to abandon the truck and surrender,” Daisy quipped.  “Even though you are barely able to stand right now.”

Giyera growled, pushing himself off the ground against the force she was applying.  “There is a matter of pride in failing to surrender.”  His eyes traced the landscape for a workable weapon, but the Agent must have been informed he was present and had not come with her side arm.

Daisy tilted her head.  “What was that old proverb?   _ ‘Pride goes before the fall _ ”, was it?”  Strategically unleashing another burst of wind before he could pull his knees under himself to stand, she moved him another ten to fifteen feet away from the truck.

His lip curled.  “I think that is the expression.  Too bad you didn’t learn it’s lesson.”

A pair of armed guards had crept into position in the grass from the cover of the forest, their pistols trained on her.  Daisy grit her teeth.  It would be easy enough to disarm the men with her powers.  The problem would be that Giyera could use those firearms easily.

Her suit only had some much Kevlar grade fabric covering her body.  By all accounts, Giyera was an excellent shot.

Mack, thankfully,  was already on it.  For a man of his size, he could be surprisingly stealthy.  He jumped on both men, stomping on both firing arms at once near their wrists.  Daisy readied herself to fend off a spray of fire if needed, but Mack had effectively disarmed both.  Kicking both weapons under the truck, he started to brawl with each in turn.  

Daisy turned to find Giyera on his feet, face scraped into the grass and spitting a bit of blood at the ground.  

“Tremors,”  Mack nodded up the hill, as he dropped one of the men near the tire,  “we’ve got incoming.”

* * *

Fitz pulled himself away from the wall as the rumble of Daisy’s powers reverberated throughout the metal trailer.  It was causing near constant ringing in his ears, but the fact more help had arrived--who could go toe to toe with Giyera--was an encouraging sign.

“We need to find some way out of here,”  Fitz mumbled, as he drew closer to his father.  “It sounds like Daisy is taking him on all on her own.  If she is using those powers, I’m pretty sure Giyera is outside the truck now.”

His father had his hand massaging his right shoulder.  Fitz frowned.  How had he already forgotten it had been dislocated only a few days ago?   
  
“It sounds like she just moved further away.”   
  
Fitz nodded.  “Giving us some time to figure out how to get out?”   
  
“Yes,” his father confirmed.  “I suppose Jemma and Marquez might be along shortly, we brought along a few toys that might help."   
  
Fitz realized that for Jemma to help them get out meant she would be far closer to Giyera than he ever wanted.  He snarled, "I don’t want Jemma anywhere near that man!   That was why I stayed in this bloody truck in the first place. Do you have any idea what he did to her?  She was tortured by Giyera to force one of us on a dangerous mission to bring back some ancient Hydra evil.”   
  
“Leo…” his father murmured, partly soothing and partly resigned.   
  
“I could hear her screams.” Fitz;s voice shook, as the tears welled in his eyes.  His father certainly wouldn’t realize  it was the first time he had vented this to anyone but Jemma since his return from Maveth.    “They made sure of it.  I couldn’t stand it for long and accepted the terms of  their mission, because I’d already failed to protect her once.   I did everything I could to foil it from coming back and Hydra won’t stop until they succeed in doing so….we can’t let them get her again!”

“Then we find a way out, Leo,” his Father assured, his voice more tremulous than the certainty of his words.  “We will keep her safe.  I don’t want to see her harmed either.”

* * *

Bobbi spotted the brawl first, bringing the vehicle to a screeching halt.  She wasn’t sure how large Giyera’s range was, and she wasn’t about to give him an advantage in terms of weapons.    
  
“Hunter, you’re with me.”   
  
Marquez frowned.  “Shouldn’t we all be working to take out the threat.”     
  
“Health takes primary priority.”  Jemma narrowed her eyes at the specialist,  “Help me move her over into that white container.   
  
"And leave the gun," Bobbi warned.  We can't afford to give him any weapons.    
  
Marquez rolled her eyes, leaving her weapon in the vehicle.  “Fine.”

* * *

Daisy dropped to her knee, pushing the firearms further out of reach, before turning her powers back on Giyera.  Sweat dusted her forehead and would soon start beading down her nose in slender rivulets.  She wasn’t used to this sort of powers based endurance trial.  

Mack had finished dropping the second Hydra merc, racing to the other side to retrieve the weapons.  

“Drop the weapons on the ground, and put your hands behind your head,” the orders were barked at Mack on the other side of the van.  

Daisy frowned, as she heard the weapons dropped with a pair of clinks.  Mack was clearly outnumbered and she was tiring fast.  They were in dire need of the Cavalry right about now.

* * *

Holding Avery’s legs, Jemma had frogmarched with Marquez the 100-some yards from the vehicle to the pod.  They could get her strapped in to the med and send the pod up, so long as the crew knew she was inbound.  She pressed the quick access code that released the pressure sealed door with a hiss and set to work.  Avery needed to be secure and stable before her flight, but Jemma’s growing anxiety about Fitz anywhere near that monster was distracting.

She needed her normal, rational focus.  

Marquez looked up, “What else do we need to do?”  

Jemma looked at Avery.  “I’ll make sure she’s safe to travel.  You get whatever you left in the truck and meet me back here.”

Marquez nodded and ran off while Jemma when through a mental checklist.  She confirmed the status of the wound as closed, visually assessed Avery’s breathing, and checked her pulse.  She tightened the straps across her chest and hips to ensure as much flight safety as was possible, and moved out the door to manually key the code that would send the pod back home to the flying base.  She couldn’t recall for the life of her--at this exact, properly stressful moment--if Fitz’s coding would automatically alert the bridge when the pod docked, or if manual confirmation was necessary for that alert.  At this moment, getting Avery away from danger into more focused hands had been a boon and now allowed her to shift her focus.

* * *

 

Mack had his hands laced behind his neck with one knee set to the ground, when Bobbi’s staves whipped through the air,  neatly knocking down two of the guards before they whistled back into her hands.

Mack mock saluted her before leaning back down to gather the weaponry.  Getting any weaponry out of Giyera’s range was a high priority based on what Fitz and Simmons had reported.

Hunter nodded off into the brush.  “Bob, I think I saw some more over that way.”

Mack raised his brows.  These mercs were waiting on some sort of signal to advance and take control of the situation.  But trying to spot them on the ground?  That wasn’t efficient at all.   “Mack to Zephyr, what kind of heat signatures can you visualize from up there?”

Hunter grinned at Bobbi, before racing off to act as bait  for the next pair in hiding. 

* * *

The girls had yet to return and Leonard beat his fists futilely against the door of the truck, feeling even more helpless than before, despite Leo being with him.  Wincing as he felt his skin tear against the immovable weight of the metal, and his arm ached from the abuse. 

Leo perked up, seeing a ray of hope--literally--after his empty search along the sides.  “Where the hell is that light coming from?”   
  
Leonard stopped his pounding, turning back to his son, and blinked.  It was surprising that he could actually just make out the boys face.     
  
“The hell?”  Leo’s face contorted in confusion.  “How are you doing that?”

He looked down at his hand and sighed.  “Bloody inconvenient is what it is.”   
  
“What’s causing it?” Fitz asked, standing next to him observing the unevenly distributed pinpoints of light.  “They almost look like...stars?”

  
“I’ve only seen it happen a few times before, usually under a mix of stress and pain,” he explained, turning his fingers over and watching the brightness of the light ebb away slightly.  “I can’t recall it happening as a child, but from time to time as an adult it would...flare up.”

“So, you’re what?”  Leo scoffed in disbelief.  “Some sort of Twilight vampire?  You survive things that should have killed you, and you are sparkling obnoxiously.”   
  
“Those stupid movies.”  Leonard rolled his eyes.  “Not a vampire, but not exactly human either.   I’ve spent years never entirely able to piece together just what I...we truly are.  I wish I could tell you more.  You’ll need to know eventually, I’m sure.”   
  
“Why?”  Leo countered.  “You seem to have done pretty well without knowing.”   
  
Leonard raised his brows and grinned.  “Why, for family planning, of course?”

Even in the half dark, Leo reddened as he choked, sputtering into a fit of coughs.  He turned, re-applying himself to the task of finding some way out.  "Typical parent.  I have just kissed the girl and you are after grand kids already."   
  
Leonard sighed.  “I suppose I should apologize about that ruse now.”   
  
His son didn’t look up.  “What ruse?”   
  
“The one where my agency thinks I’m going to be a grandfather soon.”

Leo almost shrieked.  “What?”   
  
“It was necessary.  Our version of the director insisted on keeping Jemma locked up, which wasn’t acceptable especially as we’d need to make a speedy exit for the exchange.”  Leonard paused meeting him in the eye.  “For once I worked that bloody contract to my advantage to keep you both safe.  If they knew either of you had been off this planet, neither of you would ever be able to leave their custody.  I couldn't let what happened to me happen to either of you."

* * *

Daisy was breathing heavily from the exertion, but had managed to draw Giyera some fair distance from the truck.  She was still hesitant to shake the ground, not knowing the likelihood of an avalanche or underlying fault lines in the area.

But moving rock was far easier, it was mostly static, easier to coerce in a simple path.   The wind, conversely, was dynamic and needed far more of her attention to direct properly.   
  
Daisy frowned.  Giyera had probably noticed it was draining her strength.  He was playing a cat and mouse game with her, pretending to be the mouse while thinking like a cat.  A cat guarding its prey still trapped in the truck.

The strategic thinking made him dangerous.  It was chess, and all the while they’d both been protecting the same queen.  

Daisy, pressed her hands on her knees, trying to rally her strength for another go.  

* * *

Jackson stared down the hill at the melee he could see through the dash at this angle.  Things were clearly not going to plan. He was not trained for this sort of physical exertion.  And certainly not against trained Shield agents. He was a scientist, his value in his mind and in his planning.  His part of the planning had gone off spectacularly.    
  
He threw his truck into reverse and pulled back out of.  Giyera would really never know how long it took him to steal another truck and get down to the quinjet.  He would bide his time and he could still make Smith pay.

* * *

Giyera smiled.  She hadn’t noticed his particular focus back on the truck.  Her strength was truly impressive, but in the end, strategy would be king.  

He had planned for the two who’d invaded the ACTU.  He had planned for Ward’s pet Inhuman Shield Agent.  He had neutralized both Father and Son and left them trapped in the truck without his help to escape the bent metal.

But Agent Fitz had let himself be taken, which meant he was protecting someone.  Very likely Agent Simmons, who had screamed musically under his earlier ministrations.  

There was no doubt she would come for her partner.  Her actions at the castle, correcting the calculations, was one of her many tells. He was a threat she would not ignore.   
  
And her firearm would be used to turn the tide.  All he had to do is wait.

* * *

Jemma moved towards the truck, with Marquez on her heels.  Getting Fitz out was her first priority, Bobbi, Mack and Hunter were troubleshooting the few Hydra mercenaries littering the area.  Daisy was in a standoff with Giyera farther down the hill.  She was so tempted to go down and help Daisy; it would be satisfying to put a bullet between his eyes, especially after the pain he'd caused her.

If only she could shoot that well, or his powers would not clearly have prevented that success.

She pounded on the outside of the trailer.  “Fitz?”

“Jemma?” Fitz echoed from inside.  “The door is locked from the outside.”

She frowned, digging through the bag of toys Avery had carried.  “More than just locked.  He bent the metal over.”

“Great,” Leonard grumbled.  “That explains quite a lot.”

“I might just have something Avery left for us,”  Jemma announced, pulling out the dispenser from her bag.  “But you’ll both need to stand back.”

“What did she say?”  Fitz asked.

Jemma heard a series of echoes followed by a thump further away than she expected.  “Ready?”

“Do it, Jemma!”  Leonard shouted, shielding his son inside as he wasn’t precisely sure how the weapon would react.  “Quickly!”

Wielding the dispenser like a spray can, she held her sleeve in front of her face and sprayed.  A sound of crackling followed, sending a web of cracks through the mangled seal.  She chased as far as she could go along the seal.  “Try to push now!”

Marquez dropped the weapon as halfway assembled, tugging the lever from the outside and pulled.  She grunted as she fell back to the ground when the door finally broke free.

* * *

Bobbi’s staves circled behind Giyera just as Daisy felt her strength truly waning.   She had been using her powers constantly for almost 20 minutes, but that kind of endurance was not something she had tested since she'd helped Fitz across the universe .

Giyera ducked with a grin.  “Ms. Morse, I wondered when you’d be joining us.”

Visually, his eyes locked on both of her staves, tugging them out of mid-air.  Within a few seconds, he had figured out how to manipulate the electrical field that had spoiled their last duel.  

Bobbi leaped towards him, dodged her staves to land a punch.  It knocked him back briefly, but not before he launched one of her electrified staves into her other arm.  

She fell back onto the ground, whimpering in pain.

He sneered as he towered over her.  "How do you like that trick?"

* * *

Marquez finished the tripod assembly as Agent Simmons helped both men out of the truck, pausing to embrace Agent Fitz tightly.  It would have been so much easier to just put the threat down immediately.     
  
Setting up the laser sight, and drawing in a deep breath and took aim.

* * *

“Bobbi!”  Daisy lumbered to her feet, desperate to help.  She wasn’t sure she even had enough to make one more small quake without falling over again. 

Giyera had her staves lined up, ready to go for the kill.  

Daisy lined up her hands, when Giyera dropped to the ground without warning, staves falling half an instant later.  Blue veins spiraling and then disappeared around his face.  

Daisy fell back onto the grass panting, satisfied that Giyera was no longer moving.  “You okay?”   
  
Bobbi grimaced, as she tenderly pulled the fabric away from the relatively minor electrical burn on her arm.  “I’ve been better.  You?”

* * *

Jackson parked beside the quinjet, draining the last of his to go coffee, all signs of the battle gone after he had grabbed his drink.  Since Giyera was a force to be reckoned with and the truck doors were opened, he surely had wrangled the men into the jet.

His hand lingered over his side arm just in case.  

The ramp deployed without issue and he heard the sounds of the captives pounding and shouting on the door.  Dr. Smith would finally get his just desserts and rue the day he decided to make his daily life miserable.  With a smile, Jackson walked towards the cockpit as the ramp closed behind him.  His mind raced through a myriad of delightful scenarios he could use on the boy on the flight to torment the Doctor.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jackson prefaced just before he stepped into the cramped space.

The flight chair spun around to reveal someone he’d never met before, the man tugged down his sunglasses glaring at him with one good eye and one scarred one.  "So.  You're the damned fool that ruined over two decades worth of my careful planning."

Jackson reeled backwards, straight into two stone-faced women and felt his whole world close in.  The Dark haired one audibly cracked her knuckles as she formed a fist.   “You took my agent,” she growled.

* * *

Marquez stood guard near the unconscious threat, weapon at hand, pointedly trying to ignore the tear and hug filled reunion going on just feet away.  Fitz was seated on the ground as Simmons fussed over him, alternating between kissing him senseless, inspecting him for injuries, and making sure everyone but his father kept a healthy distance. Giyera, as she was informed he was called, had been neutralized, but the others assured her that guard was necessary.   
  
But that was not her pressing concern.  For some reason, the man she had been guarding for so long left the truck where he had been held hostage lit up like some bizarre Christmas tree.  Mr. Harris needed to know this new development as soon as possible, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that would change his game plan.   
  
The fingers of her free hand flew over the touchscreen of her phone, adding a message to the picture she had discreetly snapped.  She hadn’t even noticed as the net rapidly descended to snatch up the unconscious man not fifteen feet away until it was too late and the Inhuman was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only more chapter to go! It is drafted, but I am still being super finicky over the details. 
> 
> This really has been an enjoyable challenge to write. I can only hope you all have enjoyed reading and I have putting the research together and assembling the story. I cannot put in words just how much I truly appreciate all of you who have stuck with me thus far, and have been such wonderful coaches and cheerleaders to this 8-month long process. Looking at that whole time in a very odd way, this is like having another child--except I get to sleep in the end! :D
> 
> Comments, kudos, and messages are all greatly appreciated.


	17. Chapter 17

_Undisclosed Location_

_24 December 2015_

* * *

“Mr. Giyera,”  Malick boomed as his subordinate entered the room, multiple televisions blaring news in the background.  “Glad to see you are on the mend.”

  
“Please accept my apologies, sir.”  Giyera bowed, not quite meeting his eyes, for the first time having truly failed Malick.  He felt the weight of the Inhuman’s stare more than Malick’s.

  
“No need to throw yourself on the sword.  Good, loyal help is hard to find anymore.”  Malick leaned forward.  “I assume your assessment of those two recruits proved correct and they were the main reason you failed to acquire our assets.”

  
“Yes, sir.”  Giyera spoke with deference.  “I’m less than pleased.”

  
Malick set his jaw.  “It does mean we will need more volunteers.  Or…”

  
Giyera tilted his head, asking “Sir?”

  
“Or a far more rapid asset location system than what we currently have.  Besides Coulson let the younger one out once...it's only a matter of time before he does again."  
In the corner of the room, Hive smiled.

* * *

Leonard winced as Jemma quite liberally--and a bit forcefully--applied anti-septic to his knuckles. Avery lay motionless in the next bed over, still unconscious from a slow IV drip of morphine to handle the pain from her wounds.  Leonard felt guilty for dragging her into all of this in the first place.  She had only been trying to help. “Well, Marquez is not taking you both anywhere until you have my medical clearance,” Jemma snapped.

She pulled the bandage a bit tighter than was strictly necessary referring to Marquez’s order that they leave the Playground as soon as possible. “I meant to ask you before you were pulled away earlier, but why on earth did Marquez have a copy of Fitz’s prototype Night Night gun?”

Giving a contrite smile, he offered.  “I think that might have been my fault.  I’ve gotten progress reports on him for so long, it is possible she saw a copy during a periodic safety sweep on my bunk.”  His eyes narrowed.  “I’m not sure who would have built it for her, though.

“I don’t like having her in the base, and I’m probably not the only one.”  Jemma crossed her arms, clearly peeved with Marquez--and probably also him.  There would be time enough to get back on Jemma’s good side later, but Marquez was an increasing concern in his mind.  

Leo walked in from where he had been hovering outside the medical bay.  “I just spoke with Coulson.  He asked to speak with you next, Simmons."

* * *

Fury stood in Coulson’s office, glaring at the screen.  “Got to tell you, Coulson.  This is not what I expected from you.”

“Sir, there were extremely extenuating circumstances--” Coulson started.

Fury tilted his head at the fairly lame excuse.  “There are always extenuating circumstances.  But I put you in position because you were a good man.  You put your people first, gave them the tools to succeed and watched their backs.  But here, I”m not seeing it.”  He gestured to the screen.  “You unleashed the Inhuman terrigen into the water supply.”

Coulson smiled tightly.  “We did minimize the effects of that.”

Fury raised a brow silently, clearly conveying his doubt on that mark. “And this situation with Agent Fitz is a problem. He and Simmons were never supposed to be in the field.  I didn’t have their field test scores altered for nothing.” He paused to see the look on Coulson’s face.  “They were technically high enough to pass, but safety was the second highest priority of the original team.”

Coulson stared deadpan. “And the first?”

“Dealing with you if it came to that.  But there is nothing we can do about that now. What matters is how things are handled going forward," Fury pressed on. "You need to know why Agent Fitz and his father are under such protection. Why it’s down right dangerous for the likes of Hydra to get their hands on them.  I’ve spent some of my free time trying to track down more information on the history, puzzling out how Hydra managed to infiltrate so deeply.  In doing so, I found documentation that seem to suggest that Fitz’s  family is a legacy.  Shield didn’t entirely stem from the SSR; there was another, older group involved.  Their goals just...overlapped conveniently.”

Coulson leaned in, silently waiting for any other details Fury might actually unveil.

Fury didn’t disappoint. “There was a scientist with a particular set of abilities who helped drive a lot of the alignment. From what I know of Doctor Fitz and even Agent Fitz’s intelligence, I have reason to believe they might even be related. So losing Agent Fitz would have been very problematic. And not just because I would have to explain it to his father.”

Coulson settled back into his chair, trying to process.

“There is so much of that history even I don’t understand, Coulson. And we’ve nearly lost it all several times over.  We couldn’t risk losing it again and I took extreme measures to protect it… to protect them.”

Coulson nodded to the door as he noted the new arrival.   Coulson nodded to the door as he noted the new arrival hovering outside the door. "Come in, Agent Simmons."

She rocked back on her heels, startled to see former Director Fury, before she lifted her chin and strode forward.

Fury intervened. “We’re going to need to do your de-brief, Agent Simmons.”

She looked at Coulson for his confirmation, smiling when he nodded. “Where shall I start?”

“Let’s start from when I saw you last…”

* * *

 

Jemma crossed her arms in front of her as she finished, feeling oddly lighter. 

“You lost them both to Hydra again, Coulson!?” Fury bellowed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “It's no wonder Fitz’s father came out of the woodwork.  Hell, if I’d thought for one moment you would consider placing them in such a dangerous position for a petty quest of revenge, I would have come out of the woodwork myself!”    
Jemma volunteered an extra bit of insight she’d been granted. “Doctor Fitz kept mentioning that the two of you had some sort of agreement, although he was very vague about the exact details…I know he creatively used it to his advantage to keep me from getting locked up.” She did know quite a bit more, but there was no sense in getting Fitz’s father into more trouble unnecessarily.

Fury sighed, “We do still have a standing agreement, although from here on Coulson will be more informed on what exactly that entails.” The former Director threw his protégé a significant look.  

Jemma straightened. "I think it’s best that myself and Agent Fitz be included in that discussion.   Fitz has clearly been kept in the dark for far too long and, well, I have a vested interest in this contract." 

Fury raised a brow. "As Fitz is your partner?" 

Jemma fixed him with her own pointed look, challenging either to deny her that request. For all intents and purposes, Section 17’s pertinence was tossed out in the wake of Shield’s fall. "In every sense that it would matter.”

Coulson nodded at her.  “I’ll keep you informed, Jemma.  You’re dismissed for now.”

She spun on her heel, pulling the door closed behind her

But the echo of  Fury’s guffaw chased her down the hallways.

* * *

It wasn’t long before Fury made his way down to the med bay to visit his old friend. 

Fitz, who had been sitting silently with his father, grabbed his things and stood up to leave. 

“You can stay, Agent Fitz,” Fury said. 

“Leo has heard most of the story now anyways,” Leonard offered. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance to tell him the details in person. And so far as I could tell, you were dead and buried.”

Fury smirked.  “Buried, yes.  But not quite dead.”

Fitz spoke up, anxious to understand why all of this had happened. Why was it necessary that his family must be splintered at such a formative age?  Why the bloody hell he was kidnapped to get at the father he’d hardly known? “Director Fury. Why did you orchestrate this whole web of lies?”

“You were under special protection, Agent Fitz. When I found your Father in the jungle all those years ago, it was clear he knew incredibly sensitive information that fell under Shield purview. The world wasn’t ready to see let alone understand his research yet.  Unfortunately there were others out there that could use it for more…nefarious purposes and that put a target on his family. I agreed to hide him, in order to protect you and your mother.”

“You were never supposed to be in the field, just working on the Bus, moving from place to place and staying off of the radar for any possible group or individual that might tie you to your Father or his research. I suspected Hydra was responsible for bringing your Father’s plane down, but we were never able to get the full cooperation to prove it. Shield really only gained more robust international pull in the wake of the Battle of New York.  

The fall has only confirmed that I was right to compartmentalize the information about you and your family, even while I was still working in Columbia at the time. The higher I got within the Agency the more awareness of the risk I understood. I assumed that Coulson would actually familiarize himself with the full contents of the toolbox and understand why you shouldn’t be allowed out in the field. It is your life and legacy after all.”

Leonard broke in, “Yet, it was the fall that only highlighted the failure of your planning, Fury. My son was injured--very nearly killed--and I was left to go to extremes to find any scrap of information as to how he was doing.  And then when I did get word-” his voice fading as the fear seemed to grip him all over.

Fury stared back at him, lowering the glasses.  “To be fair, I never expected Hydra to be so deeply entrenched within the agency--and to the highest levels--and to decimate my staff.  There were those that knew, who had been sending you updates on Agent Fitz’s progress, that died during the fall.  It took months and the help of Agents kept in remote locations to pull together the list of the dead and  send it to my drop location.  I couldn’t very well use established channels.  I am supposed to be dead after all.”

Leonard didn’t look satisfied with the answer, there had to have been a way to at least let him know Leo was alive in the chaos.   Nor did that forgive the most recent incident involving Hydra and Maveth.

“The men responsible for the abduction will be interrogated by Agents May and Morse and then sent off to the Peak.” Fury said with a small smirk.  Agent May had actually cracked a small smile when notified she’d get to interrogate the elder Doctor Fitz’s former colleagues.

Fitz frowned.  “What is that?”

Leonard smirked, clearly pleased himself. This was as close to a deep dark hole as they could get. “He means you will never see them again, never have to worry about them again. They can pull their own in line. And no one dares to move against the Commander there.”

“But Commander Callen--” Leonard started, amazed she hadn’t shown up already and drug him back to her base.   

“Won’t be a problem,” Fury assured, sliding his sunglasses back into place. “She and I need to have a long chat on revisions to intercompany communications after all.”

* * *

Jemma crept back to her bunk, dodging Bobbi and Hunter.  There would be time to catch up with them later--especially once Hunter stopped childishly winking at her and sneaking lists of baby names into her pocket.  Amadeus Ravenclaw, indeed!

Fitz still needed to spend some time with his father--whatever small amount he might be allowed before his father and Avery were ferried back to the SWORD base.  

Later, once all had settled down, she and Fitz could have a nice, long, uninterrupted talk.

If they also could manage a fairly long uninterrupted bit of time once the talking was done, Jemma was sure she wouldn’t complain.

* * *

Fitz walked down the halls towards Jemma’s room, fidgeting nervously as he walked.  

He needed to call his Mum later to check in; he certainly owed her that with as many close calls as he just had.  But now he wanted to ask her about his Father, too.  He needed to puzzle out how best to do so without causing her any unnecessary stress.  Or putting her in jeopardy.

  
Jemma would certainly have some idea how best to go about it.  Besides, he still had the scratch on his hand for her to check on.  Even if he had let someone else check it, she was bound to be more...thorough.   They had yet to have a moment alone since he had been freed, the last few hours a whirlwind of traveling, medical, and debriefing.  

He stopped in front of her door, hesitating only a moment to make sure he was presentable before knocking.

He didn’t have to wait long to see the smile light up her face when she saw it was him.  “Fitz.”

Helpless but to echo, he smiled back in return.

She opened the door, motioning for him to come in.  He was grateful, as it worked to bypass the shortcircuit her smile had induced.  

“I had something for you to look at before we were so rudely interrupted.”

“Oh?”  Jemma breathed, her pitch suddenly high.  “I--What is it?”

He extended his open palm out to her.  She looked confused for a second before taking note of the nasty gash that was slow to heal.  “Is that from--”

“The plane,”  Fitz confirmed.  “I nicked it just before I was grabbed.  I kept thinking it might be a nice excuse to get some privacy.”

“That still works, I think.”  Jemma’s lips curled, as she turned to grab the small first aid kit from her bathroom.

“It would be nice not to need an excuse.”  

Her brows raised, as she pulled his hand back into hers for examination.  “You didn’t need one on my account.”

He stared at her meaningfully.  “I didn’t just mean for today.  We have a history of unfinished conversations.  I was hoping we could finish one."

Fitz felt his heart quicken when she closed a bit of the gap between him. “Which particular one did you have in mind?”

Their eyes are locked, hands still clasped, only Fitz adjusting to interlace their fingers.  "I think this one is a good start," he whispered, closing the remaining distance to place a tender kiss to her lips.

Jemma pulled back, committing every subtle curve and plane of his face to memory.  When her eyes dropped back to his lips, her free hand slipped to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer and deepening the kiss.

Fitz's free hand isn't idle either, trailing up her back and into her soft curls.  All the while gently pushing her back against the door as his lips trailed down her throat, abruptly stopping as they met the cold chain of a necklace.  He hadn't seen her wear once since she'd come back from Maveth.

Her eyes followed his down.  “Oh, I nearly forgot.”  She tugged the chain out from under her blouse to show him the ring.  “Your father had given this to me for you, to ensure you got it in case he didn’t make it.  He said it had belonged to your Grandmother.”

He caught her hand as she moved the chain upwards to give it back to him.  “Keep it.”

She looked up at him uncertain, her eyes no longer on the necklace.  She didn’t seem to be aware she had held her breath.  “For how long, exactly?”

He searched her eyes, not even looking at the ring itself.  “Keep it.  I won't need it back, and you’ll keep it safe.  Its up to you whether or not you'd like to put it on.”

Jemma didn’t hesitate, quickly tucking the necklace back into it’s hiding place.

“Or, if you wanted something new-in the more traditional sense...”

“Fitz…” she gasped.

Faltering at her wide eyes and the silence, he stepped back.  “Of course, if you’d need more time...”

“Fitz, it's been 10 years.”  Reaching out for his hand, Jemma sighed.  "I know my own feelings on the matter.  I know where I am without you by my side.”

He felt the lump forming at his throat, when she squeezed his hand.  “And I didn't just outsmart a second secret government organization and Hydra to lose you again.”

Fitz mustered his courage and met her gaze, pulling her fingers to his lips.  “I want you to keep this as a promise of things to come.”

Jemma smiled, running her hands up to tenderly cup his cheeks, fingers tracing his jaw.   "Of things to come," she agreed, her lips just teasing his.  With a grin, she withdrew just enough to rest her forehead against his.  "Now, I believe you promised me a finished conversation and I intend to see this one through."   

Fitz grinned as he leaned in.  “Never have been one to break a promise.”

* * *

Jemma’s phone buzzed far too early, vibrating against the nightstand.  Blindly, she reached towards it, ignoring the grunt from Fitz as she accidentally brushed his face a few times, still somewhat bleary as she managed to answer.  

“Hello?”

Bobbi was far too chipper for this early in the morning.  “Jemma.  Sorry to wake you, but your patient woke up and was asking for you.”

“Oh,” Jemma murmured, padding over to her dresser and digging for fresh set of clothes.  “Doctor Avery is awake.  Let me put myself together and I’ll be right down.”

“Take your time,” Bobbi snickered.  “I’m just with her and Fitz’s Father hearing about all the trouble you and Fitz got into at the Academy.  And I’m not due to spar with May and Marquez for another half hour or so...”

Jemma smiled, only slightly sad at the prospect of missing the sight of Bobbi and May knocking Marquez about the room.

Bobbi continued on.  “Fair warning Hunter is on his way down.  So, unless you want Hunter hearing about that time you and Fitz were--”

"Understood," Jemma said cutting off the line, hastily getting dressed.  Fitz was still a motionless lump in her bed, albeit an attractive one.  She leaned over, sneaking a kiss on the corner of his lips.

* * *

"Who was that at such an ungodly hour?" he muttered. "And more importantly, why aren't you coming back to bed.  I’m still not sure we’ve finished that particular conversation."

Jemma raised her eyebrows, smirking mischievously.  “Apparently, Avery is awake and telling tales of our exploits at the Academy to Bobbi and your father.”

“He’s awake at this hour?”  Fitz grumbled, as he sat up leaning his weight back against his arms and just watching as she buzzed about the room.  “Now I’m even less certain we are related…”

She tossed him a look and a smile, gathering a fresh towel from the bureau.  “After spending the last few days with him I’m fairly sure you are.  I’m also fairly sure that you’ll regret it if you don’t spend some time with him today.  And since I’ll be occupied with Dr. Avery and coercing Hunter into setting up some proper Christmas decorations, you’ll have to keep your father busy.”

Fitz nodded, realizing that even with Fury's concession he was only being allowed a matter of hours with his father after over twenty years apart.

“But,”  Jemma smirked, turning towards the door to grab as fast a shower as she could manage, “since we’ll both be so busy, the time until this evening will just fly by…”

Fitz stared at the bathroom door for several minutes, pondering the possibilities, before gathering his clothes that were strewn about the floor.

 

* * *

Leonard smiled as he followed Leo up to the roof.  Leo had always liked  star gazing as a boy, and it had been ages since he'd done it with his son.  He knew he needed to enjoy it while he could as he suspected a rather powerful motivator would send him scuttling back downstairs sometime soon.  Not only did his son and by-all-intents future daughter in-law seem intent on making up for their days of separation, but Jemma had been camped out  in the kitchen. The most heavenly smells were coming out of the room, so much so that Mr. Hunter had taken a permanent position outside the door to wait her out.  At least this time, the veil of secrets was removed and he could enjoy his son’s company after so long.

“I have always felt my most comfortable looking out at the stars,’ Leonard mused.

Leo grinned but kept his eyes turned to the blanket of constellations above.  “Even before you learned the neat party trick?”

“I found out about the party trick as an adult.” Leonard smiled.  “But I always felt attached to the stars as a child.  Your Gran would set me up on the porch until I was big enough to go into a darker area all on my own.  I would sit and watch the vastness and ponder all the great mysteries of the universe.”  He swallowed, forcing his attention to his son.  “Until I became my own mystery to solve.  It’s only after decades that I’ve come to accept that I might never really know the truth, even though that pursuit put us all at risk.”

Leo furrowed his brow.  “From what I understood, the risk was there regardless.  Simply based on who you...we are.  We just would have been ignorant to the threat.  Besides,” he turned back up to the night sky, “I can’t complain about all of the time I’ve been working with Shield.”

Leonard chuckled.  “Jemma is something else and from everything I have seen and heard, the two of you together are nothing but extraordinary." 

His son just smiled.

“And even if I never am able to solve this mystery on my own, I have full faith that with the two of you, we will eventually.”

Leo gaped at him.  

“Now, I think I am going to stay up here a bit longer and watch for signs of reindeer.  But you ought to go on in and get warm.”  Leonard smirked.  “I’m sure you have other places to be than with your old Dad.”

* * *

“Leo.”

Fitz stopped before he reached the door, ready to head back down to Jemma.  He looked back as his father paused, still looking up at the night sky.  

"I don't want to leave you again, but I have to keep up my end of the deal with SHIELD and SWORD.  At least now you know it was always done for your protection. Jackson and Adams didn't even know the nature of my work or my heritage and they still went after you.  If someone knew the truth..." His father drew a steadying breath.  "I meant it, Leo.  My life for yours as many times over in as many forms as it takes.  You are my star here on earth.  Know that.  Please know how much I love you."

Fitz felt himself go numb.  After so many years thinking he father was dead and longing for moments like this, it was overwhelming to say the least. "I do," Fitz whispered.  

Leonard embraced him and held him tight in a way since he hadn't done in over twenty years. Slowly, he pulled away, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out an old worn leather bound book.

"A piece of me...and my work to keep with you," Leonard said..

Fitz half smiled as walked down the stairs; this was shaping up to be a far happier Christmas than he had for...well, decades.  His father had disappeared just before Christmas all those many years ago, so the holidays with his Mother had long had a far more somber tone.  

He was anxious to get back to Jemma, but this all had been a lot to process.  Besides, if he were honest, he was a more than bit curious what mysteries were contained in the book his father had gifted him.  Daring to crack open the first page at the base of the empty stairwell, he chuckled as his finger traced the handwritten title on the first page:  “A Path Written in the Stars?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, leaving kudos, and reviewing. Special thanks go out to AGL03 for her extremely valuable insight in bouncing ideas back and forth; to LettertoElise without whom this would be a mostly unreadable mess; and to UghFitz who made an incredibly lovely cover for this piece on Tumblr (still not over it!).
> 
> I truly appreciate your feedback. This is my first work in over a decade, and I've been very anxious to complete it well. Those of you who read and commented throughout were so helpful in keeping me moving towards this finish line. I'm sure there are still aspects of my writing to improve, but I will have plenty of opportunity to continue to do so. 
> 
> I do have a sequel currently in the works, although I am also very interested to see what you all might like to see from it. 
> 
> For the short term, I will be taking a brief break from the heavier research to do a few shorter projects, including an upcoming chapter in the Team Engineering Meet Cute, a RomCom AU of How to Steal a Million for the FitzSimmons Network's summer challenge, and a super secret work I've been working on since March. 
> 
> Follow me at overworkedunderwhelmed on Tumblr for writing updates.


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